Second Star to the Left
by Stella Limegood
Summary: The Joker, the evil maniac of Gotham.Has disappeared. The night of the Opening of Gotham City's Observatory, the Joker decides to crash the party yet all does not go as planned. Another evil has come to Gotham and as chaos ensues. The Joker falls into an accident, that leaves him without any memory. Enter Wendle & Zoey two small souls, just trying to survive the thing called life.
1. Prologue Wendle

Dear Audience & fellow members of . I own nothing of Batman & I have no rights whatsoever to it. This is merely for fun. On that note, I have very little experience when it comes to writing! I wish to better myself, & simply share my ideas. Also I'm really just looking for a healthy outlet for the madness & perverted nature of my mind. You have been warned. So I make no promises of perfection! P.S. If this story is Mary Sue like in anyway, forgive me, I like most don't wish to be a Mary Sue writer but if you the reader find it to be such. Please pass over it & ignore my story. Also I will be trying to portray the characters both accurately & how I perceive them. Therefore things will inevitably be a bit twisted. Also my comic book knowledge is limited. Most of my knowledge is from the animated series, movies, & lots of junk. I repeat inaccuracies are to be expected.

Well now that the pleasantries have been addressed. It's on with the show. The only thing I have left to say is this; will have multiple chapters. And it may be a bit slow, however, I hope it will be worth it.

Now allow me to pull the curtain, and open the window….

Second Star to the Left.

By: Stella Limegood

Prologue:

She hated her job. It was a cold hard fact of life. Scrubbing dishes was the pits. The water was dirty & brown due to spit and food remnants from the pans. She was by herself tonight. Her auburn hair, which depending on the light could be black or tinted red was full of grease. She was pale and currently sweaty. She was also short. Her body was leaning over the sink, her front getting soaked, while her arms stayed mostly submerged in the thilthy water. Her poor hands occupied with scrubbing the dishes were without gloves.

"_So many damn dishes_," she thought sullenly, in contrast her face remained expressionless. Six years she had worked here part-time. Yet despite the fact that she hated it, she knew she would come again to her next shift. Still she heard the voice in her soul say, "_I hate this_."

Bang! As if in slow motion she watched a plate hit the wall on her left, causing her to instinctually move right. "Sorry bout that Wendle," said Jerry a tall lanky 40 year old chef, "I didn't scare ya did I? Didn't mean to throw it so hard."

"It's alright Jerry! No worries!" she heard herself say in a light-hearted happy tone, a small yet kind smile on her face. It was like living a recording. Every other night Jerry threw plates at her sink, trying to deliberately piss her off, for his own amusement. She knew why he did this. She also knew it was her own fault that he did this. However like a trained dog, she couldn't stop her automatic responses of subservience. As he replied to her, "Dang Wendle you really are the nicest woman in all of Gotham! What I wouldn't give if my wife back home was a bit more like you."

"Thank you Jerry, do you need me to get you a drink?" she felt the words tumble out of her mouth. Her mind was growing angry, all of a sudden leaving the kitchen of the café became a priority. "Why that'd be swell Ms. Wendle, I'll have a Coke," said Jerry.

"Okay!" she responded cheerfully as her inner mind hissed the word, "_asshole"._

As she poured herself a glass of sprite, and the "_plate throwing jerk"_ a coke, she saw the briefest flash of bad memories flitter across her mind. Images of a small kitchen; a man and woman screaming, broken dishes on the floor, a broken lip, blood, and a wailing baby, all fought for attention, but not a soul around her would notice that despite her calm demeanor, her eyes were growing cold.

"_No. I mustn't think about that." _She suddenly yelled at herself internally. Eyes closing shut against her inner mind. A slight headshake followed in an effort for more clarity. "_I must focus on the now. I must focus on the now. I must…"_

"Hey Wendle! How've you been? How's that cutie of yours Zoey doing?" came the voice of Marie, from behind her. She felt her mind go into what she had dubbed her "recording mode," her voice nothing but light & pleasantness, "She's great! Marie! How are you?" She heard herself ask despite having no real interest at all in Marie's life, truthfully.

"Oh you know how it is in Gotham, with my gals, been chasing after that bachelor Bruce Wayne, with Charon & Sam. I swear the other nigh he was lookin so fine! He would have made a sweat thing like you blush so hard…." On and on she went, as Wendle tried not to drift back into her own head.

As she felt her mind slipping she began to analyze & categorize her fellow worker. Marie Ermegarde was a waitress at the _Night's Café_ along with Charon and Samantha. They were all around their 30's-40's, all divorced. All had at least one child. That was either living with grandparents, adopted by another family, or living with their father instead. All enjoyed being man hunters, and all had the same goal to date the rich & wealthy. Marie herself wanted nothing more in life than to become the next Mrs. Wayne.

"And did ya hear Wendle! Wayne is going to have a _Grand Opening Gala_ at the _New City's Observatory_! You know, that tall new building that practically floats above the main river by that big bridge?" asked Marie suddenly.

"No. I'm sorry. I haven't," replies Wendle honestly. She truly hadn't.

"You haven't? Wendle, girl, you need to get out more! It's only going to be the biggest party of the century," Marie stated, eyes wide with a well polished manicured nail swinging inches from Wendle's face, "why even the President may show up! The Justice League! Why even Superman!"

"Sorry. Marie. Guess it just slipped by me," she said cheerfully, tilting her head to the side, a soft, "_oh well," _smile upon her face. Eyes blinking shut, "_The president of the country? Superman." _she felt her mind store that for more thought later.

"Aww. Wendle, girl that's alright," said Marie, pity in her face, as she petted Wendle's head like a puppy. "It's understandable, with you being 22, working two jobs, as young as ya are and raisin your six year old child," Marie finished, an edge of scorn in her tone, her eyes displaying nothing but disdain, and judgment. As she then pinched Wendle's cheek saying, "Well. You just let me know if you need a break. The other gal's and I will let you tag along. Sweet cheeks."

With that said, Marie then turned on her black stiletto heel, and attended the four gentleman now at the bar. Who hadn't missed the exchange, their grinning faces causing her to blush in embarrassment. She had to get to the bathroom. "Hey there Sweet Cheeks, if you need a break, how about you come on over here!" one called.

"Yeah baby, I'll show you something, truly sweet!" said another.

She blocked out their catcalls. Forcing herself to not look around her as others in the café added their …two cents. As she walked towards the stairs that led to the bathroom and the owner's office, she felt her control over her rage intensify. Her smile that she always wore, her cover, her protection, her mask to the world began falling away.

As she climbed the stairs and entered the grungy women's bathroom with its broken lights, she allowed herself to release. Quickly, locking the wooden door behind her, to block out any would be intruders unto her moment of weakness. For that's what it was to her.

Her frustration over her life, was hammering away at her soul. Over the past six years, if not longer she had been struggling. Struggling to keep a life together. Struggling to keep herself together. Struggling to simply live. She felt the floodgate of tears come as the memories that she had tried to suppress earlier remerged in full force. She felt herself walk over to the toilet seat, after putting the lid down; she sat on the toilet, hands holding her head. Her tears of bitterness flowing freely, as her anger raged within her.

Then as if to make things worse, Marie's comments entered her head, and she felt herself grow lonely. The truth glaring like a neon sign in her mind, "_I hate them. I hate it all,"_ she whispered. Only one thought, stopped her misery, only one word halted the self-hatred within her, "_Zoey."_

"Zoey," she repeated to herself aloud.

With that thought, she wiped her tears from her face. Got up & went to the dirty sink. The mirror above the sink was cracked in three spots before her. She splashed her face with water. Gazing at her reflection. She would go back to the kitchen. She would finish her shift. Wear the smiling mask, pretend to be the kind, fool everyone thought she was. Then later tonight she would go home. Home to her Zoey. Who would need to be tucked in along with a bedtime story. Zoey, who was only six. Zoey, who was innocent and good. Who needed her protection. Zoey, the reason she still breathed. Both her salvation and her burden. Zoey her child. Zoe.

Still as she gazed into her own dark brown eyes, tints of green around the pupils, she felt her selfishness rear it's head and her mind whisper desperately,

"_If only, someone else in Gotham could understand. If only….I wasn't so stupid."_

With that last thought she shut her mind. Tuned out the bad memories and opened the door. As she came down she ignored everyone, grinning cheerfully, as she entered the kitchen, to an irate Jerry, "Where the hell have you been Wendle!"

"Sorry Jerry, I got overheated. Won't happen again!" she said eyes wide.

"Yeah well. You better not!" screamed Jerry.

"No worries! I won't! Sorry. Sorry!" replied Wendle, automatically. As she once more submerged herself in the dirty water of downtown Gotham's spit.


	2. Chapter 1

Dear Audience: So here we are again! #1. I do not own Batman & anything relating to such. #2. If this story displeases please do not read. #3. …. It's going to be a bit slow going I think at first. So don't hold your breath! Anyways! Please Enjoy!

Let the show commence!

Second Star to the Left.

By: Stella Limegood

Chapter 1:

The city was all out tonight! Rich ole Brucie boy hadn't wasted a cent!

He could see the Gala even a good mile away. With the dome of the astronomy building, the floating parade balloons, the fireworks, the hundreds of people, helicopters buzzing like mad, not to mention the spotlights, let alone the noise. It was impossible to miss.

"What a sight! Eh gentlemen. Hee heee heee." He chuckled darkly as he thought of his plan. "_How dare they throw a shindig like this, without inviting me. Didn't that buffoon of a mayor learn last time what happens when I'm not invited?" _he asked himself, tossing his finished cigarette into the water below. Not that he really cared, whether or not he had been invited. It was merely the principal of the matter. Besides he knew that old Batsey without a doubt would be there tonight on mother hen duty. That alone was reason enough for him, The _Clown Prince of Crime_ to attend.

"_Also," _he thought to himself incredulously, "_who ever heard of a party without a clown?"_ It just wouldn't due. No, that it wouldn't. He turned his back on the sight before him. To make sure the idiots he'd hired didn't screw up.

On the main deck, two of his men were loading the boat with enough kegs of ammunition to blow up 20 city blocks easily. "Just think boys," he spoke up to them, "those rich stars came to see some shooting, and won't they be! Why I bet if we get this right, will give em a whole damn meteor shower!" he laughed.

Seeing, the blast the kegs would cause, go off in the beams of the building, cutting it's support, play again just like a movie show, in his head. Yes. It was a genius plan. What better way to show his appreciation for the hard earned labor of this city, then to give them a no stops performance! By enabling their new observatory a perfect view of the underwater life of Gotham's' main river, a river of sludge, grime, dirt, bodies and, all in all a nice trash filled reflection of the city itself. Yes.

There was nothing like irony to give spice to humor.

He felt a wave of excitement come over him, he saw in his mind's eye, the screaming & terror he was going to unleash. As the ship his men sailed grew closer. He had his men dim the lights, easily enough. "_So far, I only had to shoot one,_" he commented to himself.

The Joker's ship passed unnoticed in the dark, disguised as just another small yacht, immersed in the shadows around it. Finally their destination was reached.

_Gotham's New Observatory_ was a true marvel. Supported by at least 20 strong thick beams of steel it rested over the water of the huge river, a river that flowed all around the city with a width of 800 miles, giving the building with it's domed top an illusionary look that it had risen out of the sea itself. Looking at the amount of steelwork that had been done to the construction of the base, Joker had no doubts that when seen from above or even on the level of the building's entrance it would be a masterpiece to rival that of _La Sagrada Familia. _ For a split moment he felt a joy at the sight he was seeing, only to be followed by a jealous hate.

If the Joker had been more an honest fellow, maybe he would have known where the hate had come from. Perhaps he would even admit to some inexplicable feeling of. …purposelessness in this world?

He sighed to himself. Growing impatient. He despised it when he felt ridiculous things like that. He was chaos incarnate; there was no need for petty purposes! It was time he blew something up!

"Hey um, boss, um, Sir? Mr. Joker sir?" stammered the idiot behind him. "_Perfect."_ He thought to himself, gun in hand, as he swung around smacking the poor chap so hard it made the guy hit the floor.

"Why Mr. Mitchell, whatever are you doing amongst my shoes? Heeeheeehee. The party's hasn't even begun? It's a little early to be passing out on the floor? Wouldn't you agree?" said the Joker grinning, as he knelt down to the fallen man, gun pushed lazily at the man's head.

Feeling his finger itching to just pull the trigger.

Mitchell as it were, was starting to sweat. Eyes open wide, he stared at the Joker, body shaking out of fear, he had thought the Joker in a pleasant mood.

Tom, Hank, Charlie and himself had finally finished setting the codes on the bombs for the Joker's plan, whilst the Joker himself had stood at the front of the ship smoking a cigarette. As they had been working Mitchell had noticed the Joker giggling to himself every few moments. Only to stop to shout out a quick order here & there, like, "Dim the lights you idiots," or "No. No. No. Turn right. That's it boys!" All in all, he had seemed to Mitchell approachable enough, much like any other boss Mitchell had worked for.

However, with the Joker now only a few inches from his own face. Gun pressed at his skull. He began to realize how utterly stupid he had been in thinking that the Joker was like anyone else! There was no one to compare him too!

Hair a bright deep, neon, jungle green with black roots, contrasted severely with the pale skin. Skin that surpassed the description sickly pale or even pale as snow. Why it was so pale, that in being as close as Mitchell was, a person could follow almost all the Joker's veins flowing under the skin. Worse yet was the scarring, over the years the Joker had gained plenty of incisions in his skin. None more horrifying, than the ones that stretched from the corners of his mouth up into the base of where his cheekbones rested, overlaying scars from torn stitches. Of which once an effort in healing had been attempted. His teeth were ironically perfect save a natural yellow coating on the enamel. But the gums were so red it looked like at any moment the Joker's mouth could start bleeding on a whole.

At the Joker's grin in of itself, Mitchell found no words to describe it. It seemed to him that he was simply looking at the devil's smile.

"Alloooooo? Mit. Mitchy? Anyone home?" cackled the Joker's voice. Grin stretching wider with the words.

Mitchell felt his body shaking so hard. His nerves were taught. He knew he had to respond to the Joker.

"Mitchy?" came the cheery tone. Cold metal shoved into the side of his head hard enough to bruise.

"M..ist…er. Mister Joe… Mister Joker sir!" stammered Mitchell. His back drenched in sweat.

"So you do speak! Good. Now Mitchy listen well, because I don't fancy repeating myself. Are you listening?" asked the Joker, voice taking on a subtle edge.

"Yes um. Sir. Joker Sir," replied Mitchell.

"Good. Because you see Mitch, tonight is your lucky night!" stated the Joker, as he all of sudden hauled Mitchell up onto his feet. One of his arms wrapping around Mitchell's shoulder, drawing poor Mitchell far too close for comfort.

"Now Mitcy. Here's the scoop! You know those party favors I had you & the boys prepare for tonight's guests? Right," asked the Joker eyes narrowing.

"Yes…yes um ..sir. Yes sir!" responded Mitchell voice wavering from fear. He felt his body shaking, so badly, there was no way that the Joker didn't notice. In fact as if the Joker had somehow read his thoughts, he felt the Joker's grip on his shoulder harden.

"Good. Well, since you so kindly volunteered to be the little spokesperson of your fellow comrades I've decided to give you a very important job!" Joker said as he patted Mitchell on the back. Other arm raised out in gesture towards all the gunpowder on the ship.

"Sir?" inquired Mitchell. Eyes widening, "_Spokesperson? Shit. I've been singled out."_

"That's right! Mitchy! Tonight you get to be my lieutenant! Understand. Now then, " said Joker forcing Mitchell to turn around, their bodies facing the Observatories Steel Support Base Beams, " see all those pretty beams Mit?"

"Yeah Boss?" said Mitchell.

"Good because you & the boys are going to set all our pretty party favors up here. One keg for each Base Beam, meanwhile I've asked Harley to meet me upstairs. Where we will give our guests some prime individual attention. With me so far kiddo?" asked Joker voice rising in octave, making him sound like a kid who was about to open his Christmas presents.

Thanking whatever Gods that Joker was now standing a little away from him. Mitchell was trying his hardest to maintain his breathing level, processing all that the Joker was asking him to do.

"Kegs to every beam, while you and Ms. Quinn go upstairs. Gotcha b….Boss!" said Mitchell, "_So the Joker's gonna blow this place up. Well it's not like he hasn't done something similar before. I think? Hey wait a sec?"_

"Precisely Mitchy pal! Now as Ms. Quinn and I are upstairs.." started Joker.

"But Boss! Wait a sec! Won't you get caught in the explosion being upstairs?" Interrupts Mitchell. Causing the Joker to simply stare for a second. Flabbergasted at the audacity, "_Did this son of a bitch? Interrupt me? ME!?" _thinks Joker.

"Well, Mitch that's a fair point.." begins the Joker again.

"And what happens when this place collapses?"

"_He did it again!" _thinks Joker. Hands now on his hips, left eyebrow arching. Deciding to chalk it up to temporary insanity due to prolong fear, he forgives the idiot and once again tries to lay out his plans.

"Ahem.. you see." Says Joker.

"I mean that's a lot folks!" states Mitchell.

"…."

" Plus with all this water & electrical cords?" adds Mitchell.

"What about them."

"Well, I mean suppose, now just suppose! You survived the explosion! Right?"

"Yeah..?"

"Well, you might make it through the explosion but without any support?"

"Go on."

"You'd just fall into the water and with all the falling rubble, added to the current, well sir, it just won't add up. I mean you'd have to be crazy to be in that building willing when we pull the plug. Hell? Why we even blowing up this place at all?" asks Mitchell, "Looks kinda nice even from underneath of it?" Says Mitchell, who at this point, due to insanity, brought on by fear, had long forgotten just whom exactly it was standing to his right.

"Gee. I dunno? Tell you what lets just put all my planning aside, & instead let's make a rocket ship!" says a low growling voice.

"Really!? That'd be neat! I always wanted to see a rocket!" says Mitchell.

"Good, because Houston here, has a serious problem." States the voice.

"Problem?" says Mitchell turning his head, to be met with a very pissed off Joker. "YEAH. SPACE CADETT! INTERRUPT ME AGAIN & OFF YOU GO!" Shouts the Joker rage twisting his face into a full-blown monster!

"Yeep! Yes Sir!" squeaks Mitchell in terror.

"_Ugh,"_ thinks Joker as he shakes his head. After he had explained everything to "_Spacey"_ and the Boys, Joker had gone ahead with the second phase of his little operation. "Tonight's the night Batsey," he mumbled to himself in the darkness as he got off his little speed boat to arrive on the shore closest to where the main observatories entrance was, but far enough to not attract direct attention. As he got on shore, he was met with the sight of his Harley waiting for him. Eight goons he'd hired waited on either side of her. The stolen black limo prepped with firearms for him to use in aide of his escape.

Harley herself wore a simple strapless red gown with a slit, along with a black diamond necklace about her neck. She was leaning on the limo, one leg arched so that the Joker got a view. Goons on either side, when he got close enough she spoke to him, "Heya Puddin! Got the car, revved up for ya!"

He felt himself smirk, " _Indeed my perfect little puppet."_

Glancing at the boys, he waved his hand to signal them into the limo, "Well then, start the engine fellas! It's time to send in the clowns!"


	3. Chapter 2: The Gala

Dear Audience/Readers: I'd like to apologize for my lack of updating. These things take time & honestly I had to think a little bit before I went into typing again. Also my life has been…well no cakewalk as of late. Anyways, yet again I do not, nor ever will, own Batman & all characters pertaining to such, ex: Alfred, Gordon, Batgirl, & my beloved Joker. Don't belong to me. Any characters that I create such as Wendle & Zoey those I own. And if I happen to make a character that somehow ends up the same as one DC Comics has made etc, it's by chance alone, also please keep in mind I'm doing this mostly for fun, to appease some sort of inner demon. Also most my knowledge is rather from random things so if stuff seems a bit odd or off. Well expect inaccuracies.

Right then, think that covers it for now on to Chapter 2.

Chapter 2.

"_Well now. Isn't this funny?" says a soft voice hidden behind a faceless mask. A cold hook in place of a left hand, is slowly tracing a line on what would have been the faceless figures brow. _

_ "Yes. My liege," replies a kneeling form from behind the hooked handed person._

_ "It is. Who would have thought, are first debut would involve such…"the faceless person paused sucking in air, hissing, hook raised out towards the sight before them, "persons of importance."_

_ "It is fitting my lordship," the knelt figure states absently sounding._

_ "Fitting? Yes. I suppose, " The hooked person mused to themselves. " Come Wicked. We drop anchor in an hour," the faceless, hook handed person, orders. Turning away from the Zeppelin's outer dock, to enter back into what had been a cell-phone agency Ad balloon's control room, prepared for the Gala of Gotham's New Observatory. _

_A balloon, prepared to amaze and bedazzle the rich of the city, the Zeppelin itself was huge! It flew hundreds of feet in the air above the city below. Above even the fireworks, and other balloons for the night. Silent and quickly it moved closer to the main attraction, the gala. It had taken 30 men to run it, the zeppelin, …all of which up until earlier that evening were now dead._

_ "Oh. By the way Wicked, be a dear, make sure our guests are ready to dismount on time." Orders the faceless person, hook gleaming, as the figure approaches the main controls of the zeppelin. Checking the zeppelin's current course._

_ "As you wish," replies Wicked, now standing up from the floor, smirking._

"_Oh, and Wicked, hang some decorations," says the hook._

"Gosh? Can you believe just how amazing this place is?" says a young red headed woman in a dark blue gown, next to an older about fifty year old man in a black tuxedo with a dark blue satin waste band.

"It sure is something else Babs? How much do you think that Chandelier alone is?" Commissioner Gordon asks his daughter as he adjusts his glasses with his free hand, whilst his daughter Barbara Gordon stands next to him, holding onto his other arm.

They had just been granted entry into the _New Gotham Observatory Opening Gala_ ceremony and already couldn't believe that something so amazing had been built within their world. Commissioner Gordon especially was in shock.

This past year had been particularly hard on his city; with Two-Faces gang going to war with Penguin's, and Poison Ivy's attempts at turning the city once again into a plant only habitat. He knew he was lucky he still had a home to return to at night.

But this New Observatory was beyond anything Commissioner Gordon had ever come to expect at for coming out of his city.

It was marvelous! The room he, Barbara, & nearly all the rich of Gotham were brought too was huge it could hold at least 30 elephants it appeared easily. Three glass, chandelier's with over a thousand crystals in each had been hung by strong fabric looking drapes from the main beams that supported a beautiful clear dome shaped glass/plastic ceiling. Allowing the guest to see the stars, light signals, fireworks, parade balloons, and at least four Zeppelins covered with decorations.

The room itself was that of a palace. Every table, which he had heard from Mr. Wayne was a number of 2000, was set with an ice sculpture that depicted some astrological theme. Ranging from the planets to planetary looking divine entities. On every table were silver plates adorned with carefully folded napkins shaped like swans. Every glass was made out of Swarovski crystal, polished to shine with stars etched into them. The walls of the Observatory were covered with matching draperies to the satin tablecloths that accented the colors of all the flowers in the room. Gordon didn't think he could go in any direction and not see a yellow rose or lily even if he tried. Flowers were literally in every nook of the place.

The most impressive thing however had to be the main telescope itself. The telescope was a deep dark blue, with golden gears of all shapes and sizes hand carved just for it, out for display to the public. It stood in the back of the room pointed at the night's sky, making a dramatic back piece to the entire event on a whole.

Gordon couldn't remember seeing anything so wondrous in all his life, save one.

"Look Dad! There's Bruce Wayne. Let's go over and say hi?" said the light of Commissioner Gordon's life. His daughter Barbara Gordon was so beautiful. She had on her mother's earrings tonight. Her hands wrapped around his arm, tugging at him gently in the direction of Mr. Wayne. Gotham's famous playboy billionaire.

He smiled down at his daughter. "_How had she grown so fast?" _he would often ask himself in his thoughts. Now going on 23, she was easily one of the most sought after young woman of the city. Often they would get mail from would- be suitors on occasion for his Barbara. All of which he just couldn't truthfully stand! Therefore, feeling perfectly justified, in having tossed all such letters, into the fireplace of their home. Much like any other overprotective father. Try as he might, when he looked at Barbara all he could see was that little seven year old that asked him to leave the light on in case of the boogeyman showing up.

He chuckled to himself lightly, at the memory.

"Dad?" asked Barbara one eyebrow raised in question.

"Oh. Just remembering how you used to ask me to leave the light on when you were little," Gordon answered honestly, voice tinged with amusement.

"Daaaad," said Barbara in a slight whiny voice, pink spreading across her cheeks in embarrassment. Causing Gordon to break out into a chuckle.

"Now there's a great sight I like to see," came the voice of none other than Bruce Wayne.

Gordon stopped laughing to look at the richest man in town. Twenty years his senior Gordon was always at a bit of at a loss for words when it came to Mr. Wayne. Granted they had met many times before, usually at similar events to the Gala, or sometimes at Court, sometimes with matters pertaining to Arkham.

Often, would Mr. Wayne be present at this or that fundraiser, being a well-known philanthropist. Always courteous to Commissioner Gordon whenever their paths crossed; still Gordon sometimes wondered about the guy. Sure he was known for giving money, but the thing was, if he didn't donate money to some place chances were he already owned it. In fact Gordon was positive that Mr. Wayne owned if not half then at least the entire city of Gotham in some way. Either by investment, pledge, donation, or business deal, the city of a whole he had realized one day is nearly entirely related to Wayne Incorporated.

Oddly enough in a way Wayne reminded Gordon of another person who had invested great amounts of himself into the city. "_If it's not Wayne, its Batman,"_ he had said once as a joke to a colleague at work.

"Greetings, Mr. Wayne. I believe you've met my daughter Barbara," said Gordon pointing first to himself then Barbara. Who was smiling at Mr. Wayne, "Hello again, Mr. Wayne" she said politely extending one gloved hand.

"Ms. Gordon it is a pleasure to see you once again. And pardon me for saying this Mr. Gordon, but your daughter is looking radiant tonight." Said Mr. Wayne as he took Barbara's hand in his own offering a quick kiss to the top of it. Only too quickly follow up with offering them a spot at his table where his adopted family and friends sat, enjoying the nights festivities.

"We would love to sit with you, Mr. Wayne," answered Barbara, before Gordon could say otherwise. Not that Gordon would have refused. He merely chuckled again at his daughter, shrugged his shoulders, and replied, "Why not?"

So it was that the two of them found themselves seated at one of the most prized spots in the whole Gala. Where Gordon found himself shaking hands with Bruce Wayne's three young upstanding wards, Tim Drake, Damien (he couldn't recall Damien's last name) and Dick Grayson.

"Commissioner Gordon! Good to see you!" said Dick as he shook Gordon's hand. Gordon noted the young man's firm handshake, he often felt like you could tell a lot by a man's handshake. Dick's told him that he was a determined youth but steady, a sign of reliability.

Gordon smiled, "Nice to see you too sir, Barbara tells me your interested in joing the force?"

"Dad!" exclaimed Barbara embarrassed, her cheeks turning red.

Grayson just laughed. "Well sir. I can't deny the appeal. I have in fact been taking a number of criminal justice classes at the University but I have yet to decide, will see," he merely answered. Before turning his attention to Barbara who began defending herself to him about how she had not meant to gossip about him or anything to her father. Gordon merely smiled. Taking a note at how his daughter's cheeks had reddened. Reminding him yet again of her mother, and how she had acted the same when they had met at another such party long ago.

Tim and Damien then made their introductions to Gordon along with the Wayne family's most trusted and beloved butler Alfred. A wonderful gentleman in Gordon's opinion who like Gordon also apparently liked to play chess! They immediately decided on meeting in Gotham Park one afternoon to play a game, much to Gordon's delight. Then Bruce introduced his date for the evening a pretty blonde headed woman named Amy Whitmore, from Metropolis. Who seemed to be feeling pretty out of place at the whole affair? Every time she said something she immediately followed it with a sip of her wine, and then she would whisper something into Bruce's ear causing the famous Mr. Wayne to blush. Gordon could only shake his head at this. '_Where did Wayne find them?' _he thought to himself, as he turned back to the conversation between Alfred and his long time partner Detective Bollick. Who was going on and on about how the city should be putting it's money where it was needed and not these, 'fancy shindigs', he called them.

Gordon grimaced at that a little on the one hand he agreed entirely with his coworker, but on the other hand as he looked around the Gala seeing the hundreds of smiling citizens of Gotham rich or poor all united under this event. The children squealing with awe at the sight of the fireworks, the dancing couples on the center floor, he couldn't help but argue Bollick's point. On the other hand the city needed something like this Gala something new to bring hope to the city's future? Something to brighten what was starting to be known as the "City of Darkness."

"_No_," he thought as he watched the celebrations before him, "_we need this." _ And with that thought he raised his glass, and began his toast to the Wayne foundation, the police force, his friends and loved ones!

"To the future!" he ended it with.

"To the future!" everyone replied, happily!

"_Milord," whispered Wicked to the hooked figure, "All is set."_

"_Excellent." Replied the faceless figure as a gloved hand caressed the curved metal edge where another should have been, "And are we in position?"_

"_Yes. Milord." Answered Wicked, with a voice soft but laced with lust, as he asked his god, "Shall we depart?"_

"_Hmmmmm," hummed the dark figure as it tilted its head back, in thought._

"_You know Wicked?" began the figure as they placed a hook casually on the monitor screen before them, "I think we should allow the fool's a few speeches to be made. After all the, mayor worked so hard on his, and let us not forget, that I treasure my generosity, my beloved Wicked."_

_Wicked merely nodded his head in acknowledgement to the figure before him. Eyes as calm as a sharks, as his lord spoke once more, "Also, I think we should let the clown enter first. After all, he did go to all that hassle of setting up those bombs for us. It would be rude of us not to wait for him to make his entrance?"_

_At this Wicked smirked a little, "Yes. My liege."_

"Tonight," began the Mayor of Gotham, "is the start of a new age of Gotham! Tonight. We say goodbye to our city being known only for it's insane, it's deranged and it's flaws! Tonight we embrace what our city has to offer the world! The chance to not only show, us the people of Gotham a path to a brighter future, much like those stars in the sky! But to show all of mankind that in every place of darkness that exist, even here," at this the Mayor paused for effect, " there is always a chance to see a light that shines more profound than any other! Tonight my friends, my fellow Gotha mites is our night! Our night! As we unveil this next wonder of the world, _GOTHAM'S NEW OBSERVATORY! TODAY WE SHOW THE WAY TO THE FUTURE!" _

With that the Mayor of Gotham turned to the red ribbon wrapped around the golden telescope and cut it! The observatory was officially opened! People began cheering like crazy. Wine was spilt. Fireworks were set off every other minute. The air was filled with excitement.

At Bruce Wayne's table things were no different. Tim and Damien had arms around each other as they sang along with many people the city's anthem; that was playing. Alfred was chuckling as he pointed out to Mister Wayne, a one _Lois Lane_, interviewing the Mayor's campaign team next to a bumbling _Clark Kent, _which Wayne simply responded to by shouting across the table to Alfred, "You know how it is! What happens in Gotham sooner or later reaches Metropolis!" Mr. Wayne then promptly poured him and his date another glass of champagne.

Gordon sat there watching everyone around him. He felt strange honestly. Somewhere in the back of his head he knew he was enjoying himself, but it was as if some sixth sense of his had kicked in once the Mayor had started talking through the speakers that a sudden feeling of anxiety had come upon him rather subtlety. '_Ah me. Maybe I'm just getting old." _He thought as he watched Grayson asked for Bab's hand. The two of them rose out of their seats. Looking the entire world to him like a younger version of himself and his wife had once.

He watched, as his daughter's face grew red as Grayson guided her onto the dance floor. They were a nice couple he noted abstractly. Grayson was a bit stocky in the shoulders but had a nice soccer player build to him; he was only a few inches taller than his Babs. Who kept glancing between Grayson's face and her feet. "_I'm going to need another drink," _Gordon thought to himself as he watched his lovely daughter dance with the boy he feared would one day be his son in law. Yes Gordon had picked up on his daughter's infatuation even though she had kept it like the secret of _the Holy Grail._ He had privately put his detective skills to work, and in time he had been able to put two and two together, much to his personal horror.

He shook his head slightly, the alcohol really was getting to him he thought, it wasn't like he disliked Grayson. He had a good handshake after all, one he had noted earlier that night even. It was just that Barbara was his joy? His shining star in this world, "much like that blasted telescope," he mumbled to himself, " is to this city."

"Pardon me, Mr. Gordon? Did you say something?" asked Alfred.

"Ah. Don't mind me Alfred, just an old man musing about how the world changes," he replied calmly, as Alfred shared a knowing smile with him.

"Ah. Yes. I often find myself pondering such things as well, sir," said Alfred.

"Really?" inquired Gordon.

"Oh certainly sir. Why, just this afternoon I found myself marveling at how we barely use the telephone in place of email? I tell you change is astounding!" said Alfred in a serious tone, eyes twinkling in amusement.

"Really Al? That's not what you said earlier," interrupted young Tim, "earlier you said change was nothing but a bloody pestilence upon the earth?!"

Gordon couldn't help it he broke out in laughter.

It was the perfect night.

She felt like she was flying. Never had she seen or felt so wonderful. It was exhilarating being this close to Richard, or 'Nightwing', she secretly thought. With his hand holding hers she had this wonderful sense of how right everything was. She didn't want this night to end.

Funny how the first time she has even heard about the _Observatory _being built she had thought it a total waste of money. Just another giant mistake that the current Mayor was doing all just to draw attention away from what really mattered like Gotham's Crime Rate.

"_How could I have even thought such a thing?"_ she asked herself as she leaned her head onto Dick's shoulder.

"_This is so intoxicating," _she thought, "_Lord, I just want to stay here like this for the rest of the night."_

A smile stretched across her lips, lighting up her face. She could feel Richard ever so slightly pulling her closer to him as they slow- danced. He smelled of peppermint and some other fragrance she couldn't exactly pin point. He was softly humming the melody, causing a nice rumble from his chest that reminded her of the ocean oddly enough. So entranced was she that at one point Richard glanced down at her and began laughing, "Uh oh! Looks like my partner's gone off to dream land on me?!"

She snorted, "Puh-lease. Like anyone could fall asleep when dancing with a toe-stomper like you?"

Silence.

"So you noticed that huh?" asked Richard, a clear gulping sound, coming from his throat, making his embarrassment plain.

Barbara merely tilted her head up to gaze into his eyes. She grinned wickedly, "You bet I did!"

Richard turned as red as a tomato, "Oh no."

Barbara couldn't help it she burst into laughter, shortly followed by Richard's joining hers.

Richard then raised her arm & gave her a nice spin out, only to then spin her back towards him!

Barbara sighed contently as she nestled against him once more! As they danced to the music, she couldn't help but think at how perfect this moment was. Just the two of them dancing together, she felt a blush come over her when she had another little thought.

But it was at this perfect moment, that her dream came to an awful, untimely end.

Barbara felt herself pulled out of Richard's arms and was spun around to face the last person she ever wanted to see!

"Cutting in! Lover boy! Whoo! Hoo! LOOKIE HERE! SOMEONE CALL THE FIRE DEPARTMENT; I'VE FOUND THE FIRESTARTER!" cackled a man dressed in a brilliant dark purple suit! One hand pulling Barbara into his chest where a red carnation sprayed gas at her face!

Barbara started to cough while her mind screamed one simple word, "No!"

As Barbara began to pass out on the floor, she felt a vice-like grip support her from dropping to the floor.

"Now look! Shame on you Commish! Letting your own flesh over-indulge? What a debacle?" cackled the mad voice as he raised a gun to the air.

Firing it off.

Causing the guests to panic, as ten other men wearing clown makeup spread throughout the room fired additional shots!

"JOKER! YOU MADMAN! HOW DARE YOU!" shouted the Mayor!

One shot. That's all it took. And the Mayor that had talked of the future found himself collapsing to his knees as his felt the blood begin to leave his body.

"So sorry Mayor fraid I couldn't hear you? What with you fumbling around the floor, loose a contact lens did you?" said the Joker sadistically. As he lowered the gun that he had just used to shoot the Mayor.

"GREETINGS GOTHAM! YOU DIDN'T INVITE ME SO I THOUGHT I'D CRASH!" Joker said as he addressed the large crowd before him! An enormous smile upon his insane lips, as he made his way over to the giant telescope where the stage the mayor had spoke upon earlier stood! Flinging an unconscious Barbara over his shoulder as he did so. While one of his men knocked the man she had been dancing with originally in the back of the skull sending him to the floor. A foot pressed on his throat.

Harley, and the rest of Joker's goons, via bazooka, made sure no one left but shooting down anyone who so much as sneezed near the exits! As the people of Gotham began to panic, realizing they were being caught up in a hostile take over! Many of the women were kneeling on the floor, crying themselves silly. Some began begging the Joker out right for mercy! Other's screamed in utter outrage!

After one or two more gunshots however, everyone was struck silent.

Once Joker reached the stage he turned to his audience and with a flare of his sleeve made a stream of confetti shower the stage, "WELL, NOW THAT I'M HERE, HAVE I SHOW FOR ALL OF YOU! BRING OUT THE CANNONS! HARELY LOVE!" said Joker as he danced around the stage waving to his audience. Despite their horrified scowls, they couldn't look away as the crazed lunatic addressed them, while making pigeons above all things fly out his sleeves.

As a giant blast shook the room suddenly, people started screaming again. Joker merely broke into hysterical laughter his cackling causing children to cry, "hahahahahahwhhahhah..what a bang!"

Two of Joker's goons came through a giant hole that now took the place of one of the inner walls of the Observatory, supporting what was indeed a cannon.

"What do you want Joker?!" shouted Commissioner Gordon from the table where Bruce Wayne sat.

"Now..Now, commissioner," said Joker wagging a finger in Gordon's direction as if he were lecturing a small child, "I wouldn't want to ruin the surprise!"

"After all," and this the Joker said to everyone in the room,

"It might be a real BIG BANG! HAHAHA!"


	4. Chapter 3: A moment

Dear Audience & or Readers; Hello once again! So, I know it's been awhile, but all things take time and I'm sure this story will take quite a bit. More to the point, I do not own Batman or any characters of DC's. I am merely a humble fan borrowing them for my own personal amusement as I attempt to write a story. With that said, I apologize if this is a poorly written thing and a disgrace to man. Also expect inaccuracies I have limited knowledge in regards to Comic Lore etc. etc.

And now enjoy:

Chapter 3.

She was exhausted, that was her first thought as she opened the door to the building where she lived. Quietly she shut the door behind her. She moved slowly as she began climbing the stairs to second floor.

The small two story apartment building known as _Pixie's Palace _was not much too look at. Owned by Mrs. Tinker a seventy-year old widow since the sixties, the place had worn out everything. Worn out wallpaper, worn out carpets that had multiple stains, including bloodstains, broken light fixtures, and squeaky stairs, to ask if the place was a little hazardous wouldn't have been uncalled for. However, Mrs. Tinker despite being paralyzed was a force to be reckoned with. She had dwelt with people of all kinds, including the worst. Her home was known by many strippers in the narrows of Gotham City as a safe house of sorts. "If you had nowhere to go, trust Tink!" is what would be said if any found themselves in trouble.

Thus, Wendle was not surprised to find four strippers, outside Mrs. Tinker's door in the hallway with booze in one hand and joints in others. She felt herself grow irritated. "_No wonder Mrs. Tinker can't afford to fix the place,"_ she thought angrily.

Yet even hear as her weary thoughts grew more violent, her mask rose. She felt the foolish grin cover her face.

"Well look who it is ladies!" shouted a woman wearing nothing but panty-hoes & leggings.

"I dunno Candy who is it?" asked another of a darker complexion.

"It's that hard working Mama Bear come home! That's what!" cried Candy as she waved her arms pointing at Wendle. Breasts bouncing around as she then drunkenly flung herself towards Wendle as if to give her hug. Wendle allowed the woman to hug her, even as her mind screeched in disgust. Quickly before Candy could sense how uncomfortable she was by the smell of alcohol she moved herself out of the other woman's embrace as she silenced the growing storm inside her.

If any of the women taking up the hallway of the second floor had been perhaps more sober they would have caught the tightness around "sweet" Wendle's smile, or the twitching of her right hands fingers.

Instead they bombarded her with silly questions like, "Why aren't you at the Gala?" or "Your so young, surprising you couldn't find someone to take your cream colored ass?"

With as much strength as she could Wendle tuned herself off to them. It was late. She had to get into Mrs. Tinker's room. After having to step over a woman in a pink bathing suit passed out on the floor slightly kick a few bottles out of the way, she finally reached room __. _ Not wanting to be rude she quickly knocked. It had been too much tonight, she could hear Candy and "Cinnamon above all things" shouting something about getting more liquor?

"_I hate this," _said the Wendle's mind softly. As she turned the handle to Mrs. Tinker's room.

When she opened the door she felt her inner mind sigh one word, "_Home"._

Mrs. Tinker's room was small enough that the kitchen and living room were only divided by the bar top counter. The living room was dark save the light from a small green desk lamp and the old T.V. black & white T.V. set. The kitchen on the other hand had the overhead light on. As Wendle stepped into the room she heard the familiar sound of Mrs. Tinker's snoring. She glanced around the kitchen noting the mess of macaroni in the sink alongside what if Wendle hadn't known better a stranger would have assumed a pet's accident.

The kitchen floor was covered with all manner of paint, crayons, & newspaper clippings. Paper telescopes were rolled up everywhere. One she found lying in a Mrs. Tinker's blender. Wendle shook her head, sighing at the mess. As she took the dripping paper out of the blender only to find that next to the blender someone had dumped a can of sparkles all over the rest of the kitchen counter including the dishes.

"_Leave me alone! Get away from there or I'll shoot!"_ came a voice from the television.

Drawing Wendle's attention away from the kitchen mess, she glanced over to look into the living room.

"_Gamma Run!" said an old man as an old man was being attacked by what had to have been some kind of giant caterpillar. Only to be surrounded by weird bug looking dudes with sticks._

In front of the television sat a small dark haired girl of about six. Who oddly enough was wearing tin foil on her head, with some of Mrs. Tinker's hair curlers glued to said tin foil. She had on a small purple dress, red socks, and brown shoes. Her face was glued to the strange television program. At the sound of Wendle's sigh, the little girl turned her head around, curlers flying off her hat!

"Mommy!" shouted the little girl in excitement as she rose to her feet.

Her hand clutching an old beat up raggedy Anne doll with animal parts sewn onto it, as she ran towards Wendle.

"Mommy! Look! It's _First Men in the Moon!"_ she said hugging Wendle's leg.

"Really?" asked Wendle, as she patted the girl's back, while her first genuine smile of the day reached her lips.

"Yes Mommy! And guess what?" asked the girl, grinning to reveal a missing tooth.

"What?" asked Wendle exaggerating her expression just a little, for her baby.

"_Zoo_ and I made space hats! Here's yours!" answered the girl as she ran a little from Wendle grabbing what had once been an empty flowerpot. A very large, covered in glue, bedsprings, & anything else deemed important to a six year old, such as _Lucky Charm_ cereal pieces, flowerpot.

Wendle chuckled a little. She then bent down and picked the flowerpot out of the girl's hands. To then place it promptly on her own head.

The little girl smiled, "Do you like it?"

"It's perfect Zoe!" grinned Wendle.

"NO! No! NO!" screamed the Joker as he shoved one of his Men out of the way!

"What the hell is going on down there, Spacey?!" screeched Joker into the walkie-talkie Harley held out to him.

As the rest of Joker's men still holding guns to the guests heads started giving each other nervous glances. Joker was furious.

Everything had been going so well. He had made his big entrance. Shot the Mayor. Gassed Gordo's Daughter, brought out the Cannon to start shooting hostages with, and then boom.

Literally….boom. The whole place had shook. Rattled. Rolled.

Only one thing was certain, _"I'm going to kill Mitchy," _thought the Joker angrily as he waited for a reply. His whole body quivered with rage.

"Mr. Jok.. sir!... mr. Joker sir! It was…. swear! Mr. .ajJOokernoo!" cried Mitchy over the static signal of the Walkie Talkie.

Then the line cut, the Joker flung the Walkie Talkie away. He chuckled as it smacked an overweight lady wearing a large string of pearls in the head. Down she went.

"Well, Folks. It seems someone decided to upstage me!" said the Joker as he faced the crowd that was now huddled in the center of the room.

"What! Oh Mr. Jay! That's horrible!" cried out Harley as she opened her clutch to pull a small gun out, "Just tell me who did it, and I'll fix it! Puddin!"

"Why?" said Joker, his voice taking on an amiable lilt, "Thank you Harley."

"But you see, I'm afraid that all that's really left to do is for me to speed up this little show of mine," stated the Joker, his grin stretching like mad. His eyes taking on a crazy gleam as he felt his body grow warm with excitement.

"And who better to start with than young Gordon's brat. HehehaaHA!"

"_Beloved Wicked," said the Hook, "Did Skull complete her task?"_

"_Yes. Milord." Replied Wicked, a terrible smile stood on faceless features._

"_Excellent. The Clown has no doubt started his party," the Hook whispered as the other hand caressed the place where steel met flesh. _

"_Indeed Milord," agreed Wicked._

_Silence took over the control room once more. The Hook looked one last time out at the glowing lights of this place that they had come too. "So bright," it whispered to itself. As the Hook stopped caressing the sore skin around the place where the other arm ended. "Endings?" it thought sullenly to itself. The Hook coughed a little as it tried to take in more air. Hook gazed out once more at the City dark in contrast to tonight's grand event. It's shape reminding the Hook of some sort of giant snout of some sharp-toothed beast while the Observatory made out its eye._

_Hook frowned. He had waited long enough. The skull had warned them. Wickedness had once more come upon them._

_The Hook was sharpened._

_It was time for Gotham._

"_Beloved Wicked. Time is up. Send the Kryptonite in first." Ordered Hook._

"_My liege?" questioned Wicked._

"_Superman is down there. No doubt he will interfere," Hook surmised, as it was brought down onto the control panel hard, breaking a screen._

_Shards of glass scattered around the Hook embedded into the broken screen._

"_Yes. Milord," came Wicked's curt reply._

_Slowly Wicked rose to his feet, covered in black his eyes gleamed red as he smiled, gloved hands made two solid fists. He turned away from his Lord to fulfill his orders._

_But the Hook's voice stopped him momentarily,_

"_Wicked. Don't forget our decorations."_

This chapter isn't as long as I originally wanted, but I wanted to post it by tomorrow day no matter what! So I'm sorry it's a bit short but I'm trying to post things weekly. However I don't want to rush either. So sorry if it isn't great but here's to hoping! The plot is slowly developing! P.S. This is also my first Fanfic with multiple chapters so take it easy on me okay.


	5. Chapter 4: Entrance & Echo

Dear Audience & Readers, Greetings to you all once more. As always I do not own Batman or DC Comics therefore I give up any & all rights save for my own unique characters I've made up, example Wendle & Zoe. If out of some freak coincidence you recognize a name of one it is purely accidental. Moving onward, this is my first fanfic with multiple chapters so please be nice. My knowledge of the DC Universe is limited so expect flaws and last but most importantly please keep in mind; I am writing this for my own sick pleasure to appease the demons of my soul. Therefore I apologize if this has flaws, also sorry about the less frequent updates reality takes it toll. Well, I think that covered it all.

As always enjoy the show!

Chapter 4

_This is Tara T. Adams reporting live from the outside of the Grand Gala's Opening! I'm here inside the Gotham 9hrs News helicopter just over the Gotham Bay as you can all see the city pulled out all of its stops tonight. We have a total count of 27 blimps, ten massive spotlights, over 300,000 lights tallied so far and wait what? What! This just in Folks! It seems DISASTER HAS STRUCK THE GALA! I REPEAT DISASTER HAS STRUCK! The JOKER apparently has appeared inside the Gala! According to our field reporter, he is holding all those within as hostages! What?! What's this?! THE MAYOR HAS BEEN SHOT! I REPEAT THE MAYOR HAS BEEN SHOT! Folks due to these events I am told to tell everyone to stop making their way to the Gala! Until further notice! Please DO NOT HEAD TO THE GALA until further notice! _

Wendle turned the radio in their room down to a low thrum. Unclear of how she felt about this turn of events. "Why?" she thought to herself, "Why? Am I so? Indifferent?"

The question lingered in her mind for a second or two more, but then the small bathroom door to their room creaked open. Out walked a small little Zoey now dressed in one of Wendle's Tee shirts, with teeth brushed before bed, and Zoo clutched in hand.

Mrs. Tinker had only one small bedroom, and seeing how she preferred to sleep in her chair in the living room. She had given her old bedroom to Wendle & Zoey. Which for Wendle was fine, especially when her mind allowed her to remember the truth of how more comfortable a bed was to sleeping in a broken car or worse in the woods any day.

Yes. Wendle considered the fact that she & Zoey even had a bed to be something to be thankful for, even if it meant that had to share.

"So Zoe a bow! Did you have a nice day today?" asked Wendle as she pulled her own top to go to bed in.

"Mmmh hmmm." Confirmed the sleepy six year old as she rubbed one of her eyes. 

Wendle rolled her eyes at her daughters answer, feeling a tad playful she made her way over to Zoey and quickly plucked the girl up into her arms. Lifting her above her head to spin around, before they both fell onto the bed. The minute Zoey was up in the air she had burst into happy laughter, which of course in turn made Wendle herself start to laugh.

Mother and daughter shared sweet free joyous laughter with each other, as they snuggled under the covers of their little bed in the tiny little room.

To the outside observer one would have seen a room no larger than a big closet alight by a single lamp. Where a small little bed with, ten year old, blankets sits under a small little window as one little nightstand lies next to it. On the nightstand there is an old radio the only technology in the room. Across from the bed is a bureau from the 1930's. The wallpaper is torn but painted over. The floor is wooden and covered with patchy sock puppets. Lastly in the corners of the room especially wherever the shadows found themselves, were well made cobwebs. Despite the shadowy cobwebs the key thing an outsider would have noticed would have been the newspaper clippings hidden amongst the sock puppets all over the room with pen markings etched on every one.

However, regardless of this mystery of paper clippings with pen marks, the other most interesting thing would have been the two people lying next to one another on the bed.

A young 22 year old woman with dark hair had one arm laid around the shoulders of a small 6 year old little girl missing a tooth, after their fit of laughter had come to an end, the woman had pulled out a musty old book missing a cover alongside half the pages inside. It was the story of _Peter._

No longer having to hold a false smile on her face, Wendle felt herself easing into a state of remembrance. Earlier that night at the café she had felt her mask slip. "That was dangerous," she told herself sullenly. She could not allow that. She could never allow anyone to see. Not even Zoey, but Zoey was getting smarter.

"She's growing to fast," whispered Wendle, her face in the direction of the little window above their bed. Twice Zoey had interrupted story time to ask Wendle if she was feeling okay. Each time Wendle merely, reassured Zoey that she was just drained from long hours at work. The lie worked, but Wendle had caught the slight questioning in Zoey's eyes.

Looking over her shoulder now she saw Zoey fast asleep. So she quietly sat up so that she could look at the sky.

It was in fact a rather silly thing to do. Seeing how outside the window wasn't stars, but bricks. Tons of bricks. Nothing but dull boring, mundane bricks to see, still she had to look anyway. She had to confirm that she was safe.

That Zoey was safe.

That they were still safe.

Ironically perhaps the only two people in _Gotham_ who felt safe in the city.

"Why was I so indifferent to that news report?" her mind asked again.

"Is there something wrong with me?" Wendle wondered mildly, as her inner mind screamed, "You're asking that? YOU."

Wendle sighed to herself. She knew the answer to her questions. The truth was she couldn't have cared about the _Gala _situation because one she had her own situations to handle. Second, despite trying to ignore, the awful truth she was in fact jealous. She was jealous that she would never get to experience anything so wonderful. She may even have gone as far as to say furious about the whole thing. Furious, for she logically knew she still had much of her youth left, but lost that youth when she had made her choice. Her choice to raise Zoey.

Glancing back down at the sleeping face next to her on the bed, away from the streets of _Gotham's Narrows,_ she watched the innocent person breathe in and out. Zoey was for what it was worth a beautiful child. She had dark hair like Wendle's, little freckles on her face, and currently closed shut due to sandman dreams, pretty light brown eyes.

She was also sucking her thumb still, Wendle noted to herself. She'd would have to figure a way to break Zoey of that habit.

"My choice," said Wendle as she gently brushed a hand over a lock of Zoey's hair. As she did this Wendle contented herself with the third reason as to her indifference, her face taking on a calm neutral matter of fact stance.

"Were safe," she said softly, "You and I are safe Zoe, but if anyone should recognize us, if we were discovered, we wouldn't be. Better I avoid the crowds Zoe. Better for us. To be safe."

At the end of her quiet declaration, she allowed her inner mind the freedom it had called for all day. She laid her head back down, as her eyes gleamed with fatigue, a memory of blood accompanying long awaited sleep.

One hour later unable to rest she crept to the bathroom with the tiny radio.

"BARBARA! LET HER GO JOKER! I BEG YOU!" shouted Commissioner Gordon.

It had to be a nightmare! It had to be! There was no way this was real if it was he couldn't take it. Commissioner Gordon was helpless as two goons lifted his baby girl into a cannon to be shot in who knew what direction to Lord knows where!

"Now. Now, Commissioner your daughter has _bravely _volunteered to be tonight's first astronaut," came the Joker's voice smugly as he pulled a match from his vest pocket, "It wouldn't be gallant of me to refuse a lady of such Calibri."

"Wan me to shut him up for ya Mr. Jay?" commented Harley cheerily aiming her bazooka at the Commissioner's head.

For a second Joker put his hand under his chin in thought – to blow the Commissioner up or not that was question? After some careful pros and cons Joker decided.

"Harley girl, as sweet as that would be I think it best we keep Gordy's head attached at least for oh another thirty seconds! HAHAHAAHA!" said the Joker as he lit the match and fired the canon!

"Here it comes folks!"

"MY DAUGHTER!"

"3"

"2"

"1"

_BOOM!_

"Babs! Barbara! Ms. Gordon! Noo! Ahhhhhhh!" came the voices of the room as Barbara Gordon was shot out of the canon. Her lovely dress singed by the explosion, her body nothing but flying dead weight. The people under her screamed hysterically as they watched the young woman head on a crash course towards the glass ceiling. Beyond the ceiling everyone knew lay at least a 20 foot drop before the ground and another 30 or some before the dirty water of the river. The girl was headed to her death.

The commissioner was beside himself. He felt his knees give way under him. He couldn't even yell. He was too horrified. All he could do was stare as the person who mattered most flew up and up. His mouth opened to say her name but it was as if his tongue held the gravity of the world.

In the background of his mind he heard the Joker laughing.

"HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH! WHAHAHHEHHEHEHEHEE!" went the wretched laughter. As all eyes watched in morbid fascination the girl's head grow closer to impact. All eyes except two.

The first being those of Bruce Wayne playboy millionaire; who was looking at Clark Kent a reporter for the daily planet, the second. The two people exchanged a silent head nod. Then in a flash while everyone stared upwards Clark Kent vanished!

Gordon felt his whole body shaking! This was it! This was would be the end of him! Suddenly Gordon saw Barbara when she was three bathing in the bathtub with a little pink mermaid toy. Barbara when she was nine learning how to ride her bike, the streamers blowing in the wind as she turned a corner, "Look at me Daddy!" she said in the memory. Followed by one from when she was thirteen asking him if she could go over her friend's house to spend the night, "Please Dad! Please I'll be careful!" Another from her high school graduation, "I love you Daddy."

Gordon felt a tear fall, as the memory of a beautiful woman laying on a bed in a dark room lit by a single lamp came into his mind, "_Promise me Jim. Promise me you will take care of our little girl. Promise me."_

He screamed.

The Joker was so thrilled! He started dancing a jig! This was it! This is what he lived for! The panic! The mayhem! The wonderful screams of horror! It was all so musical! Best of all was watching the Comish's determined face turn into nothing more than metaphorical "putty"!

"Yes! Yes! HEHAHEAHAHA FLY! FLY!" shouted Joker in ecstasy! He had to have more chaos! More madness so he started took out his other gun preparing to shoot like crazy when all of a sudden the screams of horror died.

"F88K! Boss! It's superman!" said one of Joker's men.

_Bang._

Joker didn't even bother looking to see if the idiot was dead. No his eyes were glued to what should have been the wonderful sight of broken glass, guts & blood. Instead..his teeth began grinding together. There in tasteless, tactless, ugly, awful, kill joy, no fashion sense red and blue was the _Man of Steel._

_The Man of Steel holding precious Gordo's baby._

Safe.

From.

Harm.

"Puddin?" mumbled Harley quietly.

The Joker roared in anger! Grabbing Harley by the front color of her shirt to promptly bash her head with his gun.

"Aahhhowww!" she cried as she hit the floor, "Mr. Jay!" she screeched as he kicked her away from him.

He was livid. He was furious. "Why does nothing go right!" he thought bitterly biting the inside of his scared cheek as he let loose a dark chuckling cackle.

"Well this is plum well good ain't it?" he said aloud.

"JOKER! YOUR NIGHT OF TERROR IS OVER!" said Superman.

"Like HELL IT IS! Pajama Man!" Joker spat.

The Joker knew it wouldn't matter but he started shooting Superman anyway. If at least to make him feel better, "What happen Supey decided to take a vacation? Or did you come specially for me?!" he asked, still shooting.

Superman didn't reply he merely flew down to the ground placing Ms. Gordon in her father's lap. Then at an impossible speed he knocked all the Joker's goons to the ground. Melted their loaded guns and finally knocked the gun out of the mad clown's hand.

Joker gulped, he had to admit, about a ruler's length away from Superman was a tad uncomfortable. Suddenly he felt himself lifted off the ground and brought to the Krypto Kid's face.

"OHhaoooho! Why Supey? Don't you think this is a bit close for our first time doing the tango in Gotham?" said the Joker, making his voice sound as affronted as possible while his eyes took in every detail of his new playmates face, "In public no less! Why? Supey, what will everyone think?"

"Enough with the act Joker. Your going to Jail." Said Superman irritably, once again being reminded of an old revelation of sorts. Namely that it was no wonder Batman was so moody all the time if he had to deal with nuts like this.

"HAHAHAH!" laughed the Joker, "Your ears are turning red Kyrpto, heeehehee into voyeurism?" cackled out the clown.

"I said enough," replied Superman giving the clown a good shake to double his meaning, "while I keep the Joker restrained someone call the authorities. Rest assured you are all safe with…"

_CRASH! THUD. THUD. THUD. THUD. CLANG. CRASH. _

"_AHHHH!" screamed the people of Gotham. As dead bodies' fell through the glass ceiling on top of the now scrambling people, in all directions. Each body covered in dripping bloodied ropes, had giant green rocks strapped to them. They all were horribly mutilated. Blood dripped onto everyone. People lost what little sanity they had held together thus far sprinting for the exits. Uncaring of whether they stepped onto others or not. But as the main entrance doors were flung once more open only horror awaited them. _

_Outside the entrance was nothing but a war zone. Police were fighting Black clad figures that were slaughtering people everywhere they went. Cars were being upturned. People were clawing to get away, some diving into the river. As three blimps in the air caught on fire. One of them had crashed into the street closest the Astronomy. On it like decorations, some even with lights tied around them, were more dead victims._

"_You monster! Joker! What have you done!" shouted Lois Lane._

_The Joker didn't respond he was in a state of shock himself._

_A man screamed, "Superman protect us!"_

_Then another crash came, as glass fell from the ceiling people got under tables to try to avoid being impaled by more falling shards._

_But this time no thuds followed, instead a canister fell to add a soft clink, to the sound of shattered glass. Then smoke spilled forth from it._

_The Joker now free from Superman's clutches, seeing as Supey had fallen to the floor. Quickly covered his mouth with the sleeve of his coat, "What is going on." He thought to himself as enough smoke cleared he made out two figures._

_It was about time, "Well Bats, you finally made an entrance.. I was?"_

"_My apologies to you Fool of fools, but I am afraid that dear Batman won't being joining your party tonight. You see. The bait was set at least a month ago." Came a soft metallically cold voice Joker didn't recognize. _

_He narrowed his eyes, as the smoke disappeared. Two figures stood in the center of the room but they were new to the Joker. One was covered in all black, from head to toe, making gender, age, and anything else of value unknown. Black all of the tall sinewy individual save a single red cuff let on an arm where in place of a hand was a sharp looking, silver Hook._

_Beside the tall dark figure was a thin young man hunched over. A man with blood spattered boots, also dressed in black, however unlike the other figure his head was bare. A small smirk etched on his face told the Joker in five seconds all he needed to know._

"_Night's full of surprises, I see." Said the Joker calmly._

"_Yes," came the soft steely voice, "It is. Wicked love, introduce yourself." _

_The Joker stepped backwards, his mind quickly going into overdrive; but the other man was extremely fast, he soon found a smirking face similar to his own with a voice to match, "Greetings Jester. I am the Wicked."_

So. Another chapter typed. This is my first Fanfiction/Story with multiple chapters. I have honestly no idea where it will go; again I am writing this for fun and to test out my skills before I try writing something legitimate. So again apologies if it's not very good, mary sueish (though I'm really trying to avoid that), and or poor in taste, what have you! To those who are taking the time to read this rubbish if nothing else….THANK YOU. I appreciate it, truly I do. See you all again. I will make no updating promises as I have test's to take, presents to make, projects to complete, a job, looking for other jobs, and much more to do. TTFN.


	6. Chapter 5: Getting Worse

Dear Audience, Huzzah! I am still alive I'm happy to announce, anyways as always I'm afraid I don't own Batman or the characters that made his Comic so famous. They belong to D.C. Comics. Characters that you don't recognize such as Wendle are the only things I claim beside just the overall idea for this Fanfic. Again my knowledge is limited when it comes to the old "Cloak & Cape's" story so please do in fact expect inaccuracies, of which I apologize for.

Speaking of Apologies. I am very sorry for the wait. To be perfectly blunt, my new job fell through. I had to leave due to unforeseen circumstances. Example: In MD. & other states across the nation you must have a certificate to work as Daycare Personal. I have no wish to be a Daycare Personal yet found myself in the uncanny situation of being reassigned to work in an unregistered Daycare; and began to get worried about the legalities of the situation I was in. Especially since I was actually hired to do a completely different job in the first place. All in all the place was damn fishy, not to mention if I had reported their arses the place may have been shut down, I'm certain. And thus, I turned in my two-week notice. Then the holidays came & my short attention was drawn to making Christmas Cards, etc.

Some good news about my life! I did in fact pass my Classes! Yay! Degree!

So… anyways, my New Year Resolution three things: 1. To find a stable job (preferably in my field which is Illustration if anyone is curious) but a part time job to pay bills is welcome. 2. To complete this fanfic & make real progress on another story of my own I want to publish one day. 3. To get a working first disc to my copy of Final Fantasy VII, (just kidding) my resolution is to just accomplish more for myself that isn't only necessity but what will make my soul happy.

But enough about me! It's time to look in on the next chapter!

"_And here we go…"- Joker from the film The Dark Knight_

Chapter 5

It was late. She needed to be asleep. The fact that she wasn't, was not good, not good one tiny little bit; but no matter what she did she just couldn't fall asleep. Something about the night's air was getting too her.

Wendle got up for the second time the night of the _Grand Opening Gala; _it was as if because of that one event going on that her subconscious mind seemed to have gone into some sort of state of deadly caution.

The dark haired woman gripped her knees, wrapping her arms around them. Attempting to console herself away from her needless worry. Her eyes well adjusted to the small rooms darkness, flickered briefly about stopping on the door. "Why am I on edge?" she asked herself internally, seemingly staring into space, her mind replaying the day's events.

She noticed abstractly that her left hand had started scratching a small scab on her right arm, causing it to bleed anew. As her mind was still stuck in that half dream half limbo place she licked it automatically the way she had once seen her "_friend_" do when she was Zoe's age. The taste of her blood was cold, metallic, with a similarity to a piece of steak she had once been lucky enough to sneak off with before Jerry noticed.

It was the comparison of her "_own blood"_ being similar of that to a piece of meat she had enjoyed that woke her mind up from her far off state. "_God. I'm getting worse,_" she thought sullenly only to follow up with a more depressing thought, "_perhaps I always was."_

Once more she saw a flash of blood play across her mind's eye.

She felt herself shiver, blaming it on Miss Tinker's poor heating of the _Pixie Palace_. "_I am what I am_," she whispered to herself quietly as she squeezed her body in a self-hug.

Wendle was not particularly religious. She couldn't afford to be truthfully. She had done too much wrong. Lived for too long in a haze of grey to see the world in only terms of black & white. Yet there were a few things she had picked up along her life that she had heard or read that stuck true to her. For instance the she had a memory of when she was a child.

Her mother was sitting in her chair repeating words from her Bible over & over again. If Wendle closed her eyes she could see the woman. Short like her, with freckles on her face a deep cut on her left brow, modest homespun clothes bought at a nearby thriftier store.

"Wendy, Wendy, Wendy, do you know the story of _Moses_? My sweet?" her mother would ask in a tight voice.

"Yes. Mama." Wendle would reply quickly.

"That's my child. Then tell it to Mama. Speak to me the story," Wendle's mother would ask.

And so she would, tell her mother the story of _Moses_, over and over, her favorite part always the same, the reply _Moses_ got from the Divine entity he had encountered amongst a _burning bush that didn't burn_.

As she opened her eyes that had closed while remembering the memory she thought of why she had loved those words. "Perhaps, it is because there is nothing twisted about them. No secret meaning. No hidden agenda. They are simply straightforward. They simply are," she thought to herself in answer of her own question.

"Like me, they simply are," Wendle, allowed a small smile on her face as she rubbed the sides of her arms up and down, "they make whatever is in charge more tangible. Clear and realistically relatable I suppose?"

It was in her musings of the universe that she noticed a small little hand making it's way along her shoulder, she froze instantly.

"Mommy? Did you have a bad dwream?" asked a sleepy Zoey, now standing up on the bed to reach Wendle's shoulder.

Her other hand rubbing her eyes, a yawn passing over her lips, "Mommy," she repeated softly.

Wendle snapped at herself mentally, "Pull yourself together! Look what you did with all your twitching! It's a school day tomorrow too!" she chastised herself for her silly behavior. There was nothing to be done about the past. They were safe. She had triple checked. Locked the door. Two knives were in the small dresser next to the bed. Lastly her gun was under it.

"Aww. I'm sorry sweetie; Mommy's just has a sore back is all! You know us "_Old Folks"!"_ Wendle said with her cheery grin face, she dubbed number 7, aka the face to make Zoey smile instantly as per distraction.

Sure enough Zoey giggled at Wendle, her eyes starting to grow excited the way only a six-year's old could after being unexpectantly woken up.

"Silly Mommy! Your not Old," cried Zoey sternly. Her tiny finger waving in front of Wendle's face in a mimic of what Wendle was sure had to have been from Zoe watching Marie. If Wendle had been in a better mood she would have laughed at the funny impression. Instead she found herself a bit miffed that _her _Zoey was, dare she even think it, _learning, _from those gossiping hens! Not her Zoe! She would put a stop to this.

"Right you are Zoe, but stop pointing your finger in my face love. It's very impolite," she stated firmly, while gently covering Zoe's hand with her own lowering the offending appendage.

"Oh! Okay Mummy," replied Zoe no worse for wear.

"Okay indeed. Come on Zoe a bow back to bed we go!" said Wendle.

_BANG! BANG! BANG!_

"_Mummy! What was that!" screamed Zoey in fear._

_Wendle stood up instantly, as Zoe clutched her front fearfully, Wendle immediately looked to the door, but saw no lights on. "Remember my rules Zoe?" she asked icily._

"_Stay still. Stay quiet. Listen. Wait for you," said Zoe automatically._

"_That's right," confirmed Wendle as she stroked Zoey's hair briefly, "Stay in the bed. Remember the rules." _

_Zoey obeyed without question. Pressing herself flat to the bed on her tummy. She tugged "their" blanket over her. Her eyes wide with horrible fright as she watched her mother grab the gun from under the bed, and then head towards the door to Mrs. Tinker's room._

"_Mum," Zoey whispered, a tear falling down her cheek._

"It is all a bloody nightmare! A mummer's farce to be sure! It has to be! There most certainly is no way any of this is occurring!" he thought.

Alfred Pennyworth was not a cowardly man but nothing including his time as a spy for the British Navy had prepared him for the events he found himself in!

It was all madness! As soon as the _Joker_ had appeared he had known that the night's events were no longer going to go as planned. His immediate thoughts had then passed to Master Wayne, and the rest of his immediate family's safety.

Then poor Miss Gordon had been unceremoniously abducted and flung later into the ceiling nearly by a blasted canon no less! Not to mention the brief Quake that had shaken the new building's foundation!

Despite being on his knees at the time, his mind had to ask the question, "How in bloody sodden blazes did that maniac get a canon!" This thought was followed, by a short, "Why in hell am I surprised to begin with? It is in fact that vile cretin."

Luckily for Miss Gordon, her flight was cut short before she could crash her way through the impending wall above her, by _Superman_. Yet it was just as everything seemed to be turning back around in the right direction that the "dam" had truly broken.

Bodies. Bodies had fallen through the ceiling. They had landed on the tables. They had landed on other people. One of which had landed on top of Alfred himself, forcing him to fall to the floor. He had nearly regurgitated of what little he had in his stomach due to the overwhelming smell that came from the sorry soul that fell on him.

Then the screaming had started. His ears would be ringing from all the screams he had heard this one night. Still all of this he could have handled to a certain measure, but it was as he crawled out from the dead flesh on top of him to see a giant glowing green rock tied down by tiny Christmas lights that shook him considerably.

"_This was methodical! This was planned," _he had thought.

With that realization he had tried to turn his eyes on Bruce so that he could offer what aide he could already knowing his "son's" reaction instinctively.

Whilst he looked about himself desperately for Bruce, things started happening far too quickly. Superman fell to the ground, releasing the _Charlatan of Death_ from his grip. The people around him lost their wills entirely. A woman next to him on the floor lost not only her will but her bowels as well it seemed. A man in his haste for the door stepped upon Alfred's hand making it quite sore, just as he was trying to rise. Only to be shot down by what Alfred had assumed was one of the _Clown's _goons guarding the exits? But he was no longer certain, for as soon as the people fled and opened the entrance doors somehow, nothing but fire appeared to enter!

Alfred felt as if he had been flung into one of famous artist _Bosch Paintings of Hell._

From what he could gather from the brief glances he had from behind an upturned table, now a shield from ricochet bullets was that beyond the entrance doors of the _Gala _was in short a war zone of three dynamics.

The first was the noble group of _Gotham's Police _that had been called as soon as _Joker's Men _had held those within the _Gala _hostage; this also included whatever security had already been in place during the event, and a small army infraction that the Mayor had requested for. "_Shame to the little good that did," _Alfred thought angrily.

It had been his suggestion to Bruce to make such a suggestion to the Mayor, that perhaps the Mayor should request a little more protection for such an important event. A hindsight, that was proving now to be a very small blessing but useless in the act of prevention overall.

The second group out of the dynamic was most certainly the dastardly villain's lackeys.

When one was the _Batman_'s butler, one got to know a little bit about the enemies one's adopted son faced out in the world. It was a little known secret even amongst _Gotham's_ most secretive "family" that if there was one person in the world Alfred utterly disliked with full contempt. It could be said that it was the "_Buffoon of Doom" _as Alfred had dubbed him one day or as everyone else knew him, The Joker.

Alfred highly disliked the Joker. His reasons for this were very simple. The Joker was known for being the closest to killing Batman.

Thus the Joker was the closest to killing Alfred's boy.

Therefore Alfred wanted nothing but to be rid of Joker.

At the moment, however, it was this unknown quarry that had Alfred Pennyworth, former spy for the British Navy, guardian of the identity of the famous vigilante _The Batman_ that had him worrying profusely.

Especially when the "Leader" came upon the scene. He or she, Alfred really couldn't tell, was tall, wearing nothing but black from Head to Toe save for a giant shining sharp Hook that stuck out of a red sleeve where once a hand had been. By profile alone, Alfred gathered the figure dangerous, the _Hook _held themselves in a manner befitting a giant cobra ready to spring, crossed with some sort of beast may haps, and the figure next to the _Hook_ was no better.

Lithe and dressed in black beside the _Hook_ was a pale young man who had a Glasgow scar on one cheek, who from waist down was covered in dripping blood.

At their appearance Alfred had crawled on his stomach to young Master Tim who was holding a broken wrist from some impact, next to one of the many bodies that had fallen from above earlier.

"Master Tim! You alive lad?!" asked Alfred quickly.

"Alfred. I? Something's broken," cried Tim, "where's Bruce?"

"I am not certain lad, but we must try to leave," replied Alfred, "where is Master Damien?"

"Don't know. Ugh..Ow. (grunt) Alfred we can't leave them here," said Tim grunting at the pain from what Alfred could gather was a bone fracture in the boy's Radius.

Alfred had just been about to respond to Tim's inquiry when the whole building shook beneath them once more!

Followed by another bout of gunfire, "Come on Master Tim! We can rendezvous later, we must depart!" Alfred cried as he made veteran decisions. They had to get out of the room! He shoved Tim under his one arm and as the next wave of running hostages went, they ran amongst them. Ducking down as much as possible, Alfred tried to ignore the bullets that grazed his arms. When a third quake occurred, Master Tim and Alfred did all but crawl for the closest exit!

Commissioner Gordon had been shaking. He was shaking so badly. He had felt the sweat of his brow make it's way down his nose, but he didn't bother moving his hand to brush it aside. No, he kept his hands where they were. His Barbara was in his arms. Unconscious from the Joker's gas, but in his arms none the less. Intact, and in one piece, he watched her breathe for a moment. Ignoring at first, the pandemonium going on around him.

"_Too close,"_ he thought to himself, "_much, much too close. I could have lost everything my love. I nearly did!"_

A rage began to build inside him under the fear. A growing, festering rage that had been a long time coming for Commissioner Gordon, this night, the night of the _Grand Opening Gala_, was supposed to have been Gotham's "fresh" start. The time of the city's darkness was supposed to have ended tonight, with the unveiling of a new telescope to be used to spot new galaxies with the naked eye.

"_But now what?" _he thought bitterly, "_where is our so called future? Always a light in the dark my world weary ass."_

Commissioner Gordon raised his eyes up from his daughter to see a sight of hell everywhere around him. The beautiful ballroom was ruined. Shattered glass from the ceiling mingled with fallen victims that surrounded him.

Tables had been overturned onto their sides; some poor souls could be seen shivering in fear under tables that still stood.

If Commissioner Gordon had been a fan of the macabre perhaps he could have taken pleasure in the sight of all the fallen decorations now thrown haphazardly all about as people in hysterics screamed while running in all directions.

Instead his rage blew over and something inside Jim Gordon cracked.

"_Enough! Enough mayhem," _he thought harshly, "_first I will get my baby out of here. Then I finish it."_

With those thoughts Gordon quickly picked Barbara up into his arms and he rushed towards the nearest exit! He felt his blood pressure climbing with each step it took, "_Don't you worry Barbara! Don't you worry were getting outta of here!"_

He felt his arm's growing strained with the weight of his baby in his arms but it didn't matter to Gordon. All he could see was the memory of his wife holding his hand and asking him to take care of their girl.

He had promised to take care of her! He had promised!

The door was there! Right there was the entrance!

"_Were almost there baby! Daddy's got ya!...No."_

There before what had once been the entrance to a beautiful evening was nothing but flame coming from the madness outside. People were piling up in the entranceway, some brave souls dared to cross the fiery barrier ignoring their own burnt flesh under the necessity of flight.

As Gordon came across the barrier himself he readied to jump through the flames!

When out of nowhere he heard Bullocks voice scream with panic!

"JIM!"

BANG!

It hurt, it hurt as Gordon felt himself fall to the ground, it hurt as realized he had in his moment of pain lost his grip on his precious child.

He felt pain course through him as his thoughts began to blacken, "_Barbara," _he whispered.

Then the Commissioner passed out.


	7. Chapter 6: Bang

Dear Audience,

So let me follow the drill. Item number 1; I do not own Batman & any characters or things you recognize from it I do not own. 2. Anything you do not recognize such as a character named Wendle I claim. 3. My knowledge comes from all over the place so don't expect perfection, if you please. 4. I really do write this for my own personal fandom inner demons so I guarantee nothing; save I'm trying to write something! What it is even I don't know yet. 5. Your reviews are in fact welcome, I may not respond right away if at all, but they are welcomed.

Well think that about covers it so on with the show!

Chapter 6

"_Well if this isn't a fine ' how do you do' I don't know what is!"_ thought Joker as he ducked another quick knife swipe from this so called _Wicked._

The asshole was fast that the Joker had to give to him.

SWIPE

DUCK

Very fast!

SWIPE

DUCK

Very, very, very fast!

"HAHAHAHAHahah! My aren't you the dancer!" Joker laughed at his new _pal, "_I'll admit it to you! Heehehaha! The tango is more my thing." His opponent remained silent, simply throwing more shots in. He dodged more of _Wicked's _knife swings aimed towards his vitals.

In the moments that followed the intrusion of these two newcomers upon the Joker's _Party_ he had put his genius into overdrive mode absorbing as much as he could about them as possible. The first thing that had been made clear was that _Hooky,_ whoever they were was in charge of this major interruption in his moment of celebration. The second thing he noticed was the fact that whoever these two were, they were not alone. No one drops fifty some people into a room of a building that sits above water from the sky by themselves. He had committed enough capers to be able to tell a big job when he saw it. Unless of course if they had magic or superpowers?

SPLUNK!

"Cchh," went the _Wicked's_ teeth, smile failing briefly, as they grinded together in what the Joker noticed was slight irritation. That was key.

Irritation meant feelings, which to the Joker meant weakness, he could use this possibly.

"Now. Now, Mr. Wicky Dicky, there's no reason to be upset that you've gotten your little knife stuck in the wall?" started the Joker, "Though why you want to do carpentry now is beyond me! hahHAHA!"

Seeing his opponent get stuck in the wall behind him the Joker took his first chance striking back with a knife of his own. He watched as it hissed in the air his arm flowing to greet the figure before it politely!

Joker felt the familiar tingle in his spine as the impact made it's way in his entire right arm. He felt himself smile in anticipation!_ He wanted to taste blood for the destruction of his plan!_ Only to have his excitement be snatched away from him as he noticed the other man's fist flying from below to break his jaw!

Quickly he flung himself backwards slamming into the wall in back of him in order to dodge the blow. "_Another narrow miss, time to change the playing field," _he thought.

In his pocket he had at least four explosives he had saved for _Batty, _he sighed inwardly, "_oh well! Let's see what this chap makes of my marbles!"_

"Here catch!" yelled the Joker as he flung some exploding Jaxx's in the _Wicked's_ face. Simultaneously he sidestepped the man, to race out the door to the building's back left staircase.

A pain in his back near what had to be his Serratus anterior muscle told him he'd been sliced at least once. Damn.

In response the Joker picked up his running pace, assessing his latest observations as he tried to buy himself more distance. The Joker was extremely furious but unlike many of his associates he had a few special talents one of which included knowing your enemy's "playing level".

The horrible truth of the situation had blared at the Joker the minute _Supey's_ grip had gone slack. He had known then that there was an act of chaos going on that he had not been apart of. Something truly out of his own bizarre level of control; oh yes, unlike what _Batsey _and the rest of the world thought, the Joker ironically for all his unpredictability was if anything a 'control freak' at heart. Thus why the unexpected performance starting with _Supey_ leading to _Hooky, _was enough to drive him "crazy" for the rest of the week.

Now with the awful "hound dog", on his heels he knew without a doubt he was being threatened.

"_This isn't fun,"_ Joker said to himself sullenly as he turned a corner.

BANG!

"HAHAHAHAHA! Missed Me!" he cackled back!

He had been smart enough to memorize the buildings layout before he came. A fact that always served him well in the past but even more so when under pressure.

"_Think Clown. Think,"_ the Joker muttered to himself as he ran all out up the stairs as if the devil himself were chasing him, "_let's see there are twelve exits not including the windows & ledges of the building. Chances are by the aerial assault they've taken the outside perimeter. Meaning my best chance may be to go down under the building…shit. I just ran up the stairs!"_

BANG

"HEY! DIDN'T ANYONE TELL YOU! _YOU'LL SHOOT YOUR EYE OUT WITH THAT THING_!" shouted the Joker at his assailant!

BANG!

"_Hell of a talker this guy," _Joker thought to himself moodily, as he turned another corner of the stairs he noted three things at once.

He was on the third level of the four level building. Meaning if he went any higher the chances for him to jump out of a window to land on a lower ledge would be difficult. He then noticed a door that would lead to the third level hall. Next to it was a fire extinguisher filled with pressurized nitrogen and plenty of carbon dioxide. _Perfect!_

He quickly slammed a knife into the cabinet, breaking the glass to the extinguisher he then sprayed acid onto the thing to release the existing components after that he tossed a couple of his tricks in the air behind him without looking back! Grabbed the door and sprinted to the window at the end of the hall!

KABOOM!

Went the explosion he had created behind him! "Heehehea. Bet that was a Gas!" laughed the Joker, upon reaching the window.

He opened it up looked down once. If the Joker had been more honest he would have admitted to some trepidation at what seemed a bad stunt. Sadly the sound of someone coughing in the background of the hall made his mind up for him. He jumped.

_He felt the wind rushing completely through him. The sensation left him breathless and for a moment he wanted to imagine that he could like a bird just swoop up before hitting the inevitable ground and fly away! Fly far far away! Free from all the pathetic beings beneath him. Free, from the figures that would chase him simply because they feared what he stood for. Yes. To fly far far away would be the perfect thing to him. A final escape from a world that had done nothing but trap and cage the perfect solution which was him…an escape from a world that had caused him nothing but rumination, damnation, and down a whisper of sorrow. Sorrow for a life he no longer remembered but once long ago, as if in some dream wished to grab for himself. Something he could laugh at later on. Something he could laugh with? Where had it gone, what was it all for anyway? How better it would be to simply fly away. How in the corners of his twisted mind he envied the Bat. What was with him today?_

"_What is with me today?"_ Joker said to himself as he fell in through the air, taking a breath in as he fell, noting the fact that if he didn't grab onto a ledge soon he'd end up being a flat purple pancake. Not caring for that idea at all. He quickly shifted his weight so he could latch onto a ledge, when all of a sudden as if outta no where a giant figure swooped upon him!

"JOKER!" cried the Batman!

"BATSEY!? Your late!" said the Joker.

Wendle walked into the living room to find Miss Tinker snoring. "Honestly. That woman could sleep through anything," Wendle huffed to herself, as she walked closer to the door to her "current home". She briefly checked to make sure her gun was loaded. It wasn't anything fancy, but it would do the job. If necessary, she silently hoped it wasn't.

She was tired. Sleep deprived and she had way too many close calls to her mental shields breaking today. Her finger was itching with the rest of her body as she stood behind the door watching the light from underneath of it glow. "_Please let it be nothing,"_ her thoughts intoned as she waited ear pressed to the door.

She heard nothing but the lousy music the strippers from the street had been playing earlier on. "_No surprises there,"_ she grimaced to herself, _"perhaps I overreacted? I have been very jumpy lately."_

She was about to go back to bed, to relay to Zoe that it had all been a false alarm when she heard a soft _crash_ from outside.

She stood still for a moment, closing her eyes, "Damn," she simply stated.

Her final barrier broke.

_She saw in her mind's eye_ _blood upon a dirty kitchen floor, she felt a knife within her hand it's cold steel offering her no comfort, she saw blank eyes stare up at her._

She inhaled the air, went back to Miss Tinker's kitchen sink, pulled a _new friend _from the top drawer, then she went an opened the door to the Miss Tinker's apartment. A _knife _in her pants and a _gun_ in her hands.

There was one of the strippers from earlier staring back up at her from the floor. All smiles gone now in place of a voiceless scream, as she had been strangled, which Wendle noted from the unnatural redness around the woman's neck.

"_Sloppy,"_ Wendle thought to herself as she stepped over the other woman's body slowly making her way to the room across from Miss Tinker's where she heard scuffling noises.

She hugged the wall, as she got closer to the other room her nose filling with an old scent she allowed herself to finally admit she was familiar with, despite a regretful wish she wasn't.

The door to _Candy's room_ was left open, with all the lights on in the inside, she saw what appeared to have been once a kitchen sink, turned into a makeshift 'beauty parlor', "No doubt about it, whoever's working inside is new to this."

As she reached her destination she heard two male voices talking within:

"So bitch. You thought you could just skip out on us? Didya?"

"Noo!..Please…please…I didn'! I! Don't hurt me!"

"Damn brawd, tell us then where is it!?"

"Aww come on man let's just f**k her already. Look this hoe's already shown a loose tongue as is. We migh ave some fun tonight."

The woman burst into sobs as the other man told his associate simply, "Yeah..yer right. Why not? Ain't like the cops going to find out after tonigh anyway..what with everythang going down at that _Gala_ thing or whatever."

Wendle contemplated her situation for a moment. Clearly if she went back into her room, kept quiet with Zoe. There was a chance these men would just kill the other stripper and leave. As she heard one of the men unleash a string of cuss words. She decided that may in fact be the best plan so far these men didn't know she was here.

"Come on! Bitch! Where's the Stash!?"

"Please ..please..I dunno..Ca Ca Candy had it!"

"You talking bout the bitch Alonso here slit already?"

"Yes.. plese.. please She had it! She & the old…Lady! Don't kill me!"

Wendle had heard enough, there was no chance she could ignore this situation now. As the men continued their crude interrogation tactics, she quietly entered the small apartment.

It was stretched out so that to the right of the door way was the living room where the majority of the occupants were; while to the left of the door was a small bathroom and closet. Wendle made her way into the bathroom. She would only have one shot at this, literally.

She knew that like Miss Tinker's apartment on the other side of the bathroom wall would be a main switch to the Apartment's electricity. Once she found herself in a ready position in the stripper's bathroom she took one more deep breath, then flipped the main switch.

Sure enough the lights all went out.

"What the hell! Alonso what the f**k happen to the lights?!"

"How am I suppose to know Vic?" snapped Alonso.

"Well! Don't just stand there go try the light switch!" ordered Vic.

"Damn man youse bossy!" retorted Alonso as he made he way over to the entrance of the apartment that Wendle had just came in from.

Alonso was a big guy, bald held, black jacket, all in all your average crack addict from the _Narrows. _He was annoyed as hell, he had lost his buzz nearly an hour ago and he could feel himself startin to withdraw.

"_Damn lights, "_ he grumbled as he stumbled his way over to the doorway of "bitche's apartment" trying to find a light switch. A doorway that was placed right in front of what he guessed was once the place's kitchen, and of course the _bathroom. _He had his hand on the wall feeling for a light switch, when he realized even with the dark that the apartment room across from Candy's that had been previously shut was now open?

Someone else was here. It was as the thought struck him that he felt the sensation of another's presence behind him!

It happened in an instant!

He felt something sharp plunge first into his back then quickly into the back of his neck! A weight shoved him forward against the wall in front of him.

Slam! Thud!

"Alonso! Yo? Man what's going on over there?" shouted Vic.

Alonso tried to respond, but as soon as he tried to move his assailant acted swiftly and plunged the object into his neck once more twisting it this time! The pain was unimaginable! He felt his mouth fill with own blood. He tried to fend them off pushing back & turning around to have the knife shoved into his right eye!

"Ghahahrrgharviiggiigcarah!" he screamed! Clutching his face with his fingers, before the blade cut across his hands!

Red he could only see red! Nothing else, he was blind! He tried to scream when some metallic thing was shoved into his mouth and a cold quiet female voice hissed, "Make one more sound. One more, and you will die."

Alonso froze, he was shocked, "A _woman? A dumb woman stabbed me? What the hell! F**king c**t!"_

"_Alonso! What the F**k is going on!" shouted Vic nearby._

"_Vicmmph!"_ said Alonso.

BANG.

BANG.

BANG.

Wendle turned and before the other man could even register what had happened she shot him down.

Alonso and Vic were now officially dead. With the threat neutralized, Wendle knew she would have a difficult thing to decide next, "_If I let the stripper live is our safety in jeopardy?"_

She looked around her surroundings. The blast had sent blood all over what had once been Candy's kitchen. She started formulating a story noting the other man's gun. Using the dead man's hand she shot it.

BANG.

BANG.

She heard silent crying coming from where the other woman was. The place was a mess. She would get no sleep tonight it seemed. She sighed to herself as she knelt there in the dark, blood dripping from her.

The other woman was approaching her with tears falling down her cheeks, "_Mama. mama bear…you saved me! Oh Mama."_

_Wendle gritted her teeth. She saw the memory of her own mother rise into her mind. Her mother lying dead on a kitchen floor looking up at her, with blank eyes. She heard her past self-crying out that hated word! "Mom."_

_She lost herself to the memory. No longer Wendle, but something else entirely she looked up at the stripper. She remembered the being's name it had been the same as a spice, Cinnamon._

_With dead eyes, and a dead soul, Wendle _chuckled_,_

"_Hee heeee. Silly Cinnamon. I am no one's….." She let the sentence hang unfinished in the air._

Wendle stood up surveying the scene around her, "Wonderful. Now I have an even bigger mess to clean up. I better make some coffee." She was no longer shaking, her entire body had gone numb. To break the echoing silence she spoke aloud to herself, "First however, I must check on my Zoey. She'll be scared, yes. I best shower and go comfort her. Tell her were safe. _We are safe. _We are safe."


	8. Chapter 7: Silence

Dear Audience: Well it has been a long time hasn't it? I have no excuses. Anyways I own nothing save the plot line originality & OC's, but the characters you recognize all belong to D.C. example: Joker & Bats. FYI. The movie Thankyoumoreplease is a nice feel good movie for modern romantics! Go check it out! And then if you want a mind bender try: Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind.

Okay well there's the disclaimer if by some miracle your reading this then I guess I don't need to say that I write this really to fulfill my own inner demons? Expect inaccuracies, also I apologize for spelling errors!

Here's hoping!

Chapter 7: Seconds

_ The Hook breathed the madness in. It was all consuming to the Hook's soul. It gleamed with glee under the light of the flames that surrounded it. Everything was going according to plan. The plunge into the City had been swift, like a set of sparkling fish scales the Gala had shown the people of Gotham a glimpse at a possible array for the future. Only to have the Hook fall upon it, turning those "fishy" scales a brilliant red. How the being under the mask that belonged to the Hook's hand, could feel the anguish that went through the air. It was like the one's before it, enchanting. _

_ "Ah…"cried the Hook in sweet ecstasy. _

_The Gala of Gotham City, the New Observatory, was being obliterated the same night its completion was announced. On the outside of the building the bridge connected to the Gala was covered with the dead bodies of average citizens, policeman, the Hook's Men, and finally some army personal that had come to save the day. Cars had been upturned on their sides'; broken glass littered any ground within view. Fire was everywhere, despite the fact that the closest street to the Gala was now being "contained"; there was still plenty of panic in the air. People were running all over, frightened screams of individuals that had expected a night of wonder now filled the air with pain. _

_ The Gala itself stood no longer on the water as a testament to the joy of all but had morphed into a fiery beacon of hell. It was burning, like a candle over the river of Gotham. People could still be seen fleeing the place, some dove into the river to survive, but were shot down almost as quickly by more of the Hook's men. Boats sped away from the place as fast as they could now layered with passengers the railings of them stained with blood from the wounded, that had been lucky. _

_ The Hook laughed. "How wonderful!" the Hook said to itself, "Why? Gotham what splendid sounds you make!" The Hook swung around with excited gay movements. It was all so sweet. The Hook had been worried about the plunge. Hesitant in fact, when it boiled right down to it, but the joy of overestimating one's quarry! Oh. How the Hook had overestimated! Gotham was more than ripe for the plunge! Why? It was no different than a dying star; it was only waiting for the final moment before it became a black hole. How glorious! How profound!_

Ring. Ring. Ring.

_How aggravating._

_The Hook sighed to itself, as it stepped over the bodies strung around the floor of what had once been the telescope's unveiling ceremony. The dark figures that were the Hook's soldiers knelt before him. "Prepare to leave", commanded the Hook, waving them away._

"_M'lord," said the men shrouded all in black._

_The Hook then took out of it's vest pocket a small red cased phone, "What news my Skull?" hissed the Hook into it._

"_The Clown brought presents to go with ours," said a sickly sounding low female voice, "Shall I employ them?"_

_A horrible rasping sound followed the question of the Skull, in a way that would have made other's come to the conclusion that the person on the line was dying. _

_The Hook pondered the Skull's inquiry for a moment, "Where dear Skull is our beloved Wicked? Is he having fun with our friend?"_

_A silent pause hung in the air, the Skull's voice coughed roughly before replying, "Wicked one, follows the Clown to the few work beams that hang near the left of the building. _Wheeze. Gasp._ They have been joined."_

"_So at long last the Night appears," said the Hook, "Splendid."_

(((((((Line Break))))))

It was hot. It was unnaturally hot. The Kevlar made it worse. He was now hot and itchy. A minor irritation at the moment but one that was driving the _Batman's _subconscious up a wall!

He felt like a failure. A complete an utter failure. He had known that the Joker's alleged breakout a month ago would lead to trouble. He had even expected the Clown to make a possible entrance, thus why he had for once pushed his pride to the side and asked, _asked, the Man of Steel for aide._ It had been humiliating to say the least. He could still see the dumbfounded face back at _JL Headquarters._ Kent had looked at him as if he had grown two heads, "_You! You, really want me to be there? You're actually asking me for help?"_

He could still feel the groan he had emitted at Kent's bewildered statement. His tight retort along the lines of, "_Would I be asking if I didn't."_ Kent's immediate follow up delivered with a smug grin on the Kyrptonians face, "_Why, Batman! I'd be honored to help you."_

Batman inwardly moaned at the memory. So much good it had done him. The _Observatory _was now nothing more but a beautifully built bonfire in the middle of _Gotham's River._ "Such a waste," he thought to himself sadly. As a member of the City's board thanks to his life as _Bruce Wayne_ he had put vast amounts of money into the creation of the _Observatory. _He had even recommended the party for it's opening.

Bruce Wayne had seen the new _Observatory _as a chance for the City to rebuild something it had lost upon these past few years. Something that until recently the Batman had overlooked, something called _Life_.

To the Batman everything had seemed to come to a specific pace, an area of expected mayhem now confined to a viewpoint of normalcy. It's cycle consisted of the criminals of Gotham making trouble, whether drug or otherwise, and the Batman showing up to stop them. Then a Super villain, such as _Poison Ivy _would show up and then Batman would come and stop them. It would happen over the space of three weeks, or a month.

Sometimes little thieves would show up here or there, on the occasion a random shooting or two. He was now the unofficial "Keeper of the Keys" of _Arkham Asylum._ All in all though, the whole thing had become horribly routine to the Batman. He had this past year only thanks to Alfred's input, become aware of how systematic it really was.

Then the trouble with Damien had started. Bruce had decided to enroll Damien into public school. Normally Bruce wouldn't have minded Damien being home schooled by Alfred, but unlike Tim, Dick, and even Barbara, his son didn't quite have any sense of a connection with the everyday world surprisingly enough. It made sense though, the boy had been trained to be an assassin since birth, yet it worried Bruce that when it came to going out in public. Damien never offered to join. Bruce despite what Dick would have thought, didn't want his protégé's or son to end up as lonely as himself. He wanted them to fit into the world with the mask as much as without. So he enrolled Damien into the public middle- school, no matter how much the boy protested.

Only a week after Damien had attended school did Bruce see the signs he had made the right decision. Alfred had been thrilled to inform Bruce that Damien had even made a friend, named Becky.

The joy was short- lived. Soon Bruce saw Damien coming home with a contemplaintive look on his face that told him something was troubling the boy. Curious Bruce had tried to gently inquire what was going on, praying that it didn't have anything to do with girls. When Damien spoke, "It's just. For a City public school it seems rather….empty."

"Empty?" Bruce inquired, brows lifted in surprise.

"Yes," Damien confirmed a reflective tone in his voice as he continued, "quiet also. It's probably just me but I guess I expected there to be more people there. I mean my class alone only has about sixteen kids in it. Seems kinda small for the average of a classroom?"

Bruce had grown reflective at that. At the time he hadn't known what to make of Damien's statement exactly. Perhaps the boy had just gotten into a small classroom?

It wasn't until Bruce was in another setting altogether that Damien's puzzlement had set off a warning bell in Bruce's head.

He had been at a meeting for the City Board when he had spotted a man named Marvin who ran the City's development plans in a frantic conversation with the Mayor's super attendant.

"I'm telling you! The Mayor has to do something!" said Marvin.

"Why? Because you don't have enough workers to make more buildings, in case you hadn't noticed the Mayor has other issues to deal with," the attendant had spewed back.

"Workers! You think this is about Workers! I'm talking about Population!" cried Marvin indignantly.

"Population?" the attendant asked quietly taking a step back.

"Yeah! Population! As in people! Perhaps you bigwigs hadn't noticed, so allow me to inform you, this City is dying!" Marvin said coldly, crossing his arms in frustration over his chest.

"What!?" the attendant gulped.

"My god it's worse than I thought," Marvin practically wailed as he rubbed his eyes, "Look. From what I figure it's like this, the average people of Gotham no longer feel safe. And let's face it, despite the efforts of Commissioner Gordon or bloody Batman they aren't going too_! Not Ever!_"

Bruce could remember how those statements made him feel.

_He couldn't breathe. The air in the hall had become tight, constricted like walls closing in. What does he mean? The words 'not ever', rang in his head, like a bell toll over and over. In never ending waves he heard the words 'no longer safe', tied with 'not ever'. That just couldn't be? His stomach began to churn within him like some twisted vacuum. He felt numb from his fingertips to his toes. A lead weight erupted in his chest. Marvin was right. His subconscious whispered harshly. Marvin is right! He wanted to throw up then. He wanted to kill Marvin. He didn't want to hear the rest of the man's words but he had too. He couldn't tune out Marvin's chilling truth. That despite the Batman's efforts: despite the beatings, the cuts, the scrapes, concussions, sleepless night, even torture. Nothing mattered, the people of Gotham were still scared, and they had SILENTLY acted. As _silent_ as the dark night himself, the people he had sworn to protect had lost faith in him. They had begun to abandon him. He ran over to the vending machine. He couldn't contain it. He threw up on his expensive shoes. Like his parents, the people of Gotham were leaving him; they had deemed him a failure. How had he missed it? How had he missed the ever growing absence within Gotham? A pain broke in his skull. How foolish. How foolish! "Empty," came Damien's voice like a wicked hammer that bashed his brain. Empty…Empty…..Empty his mind screamed._

Batman shuddered under the cowl. After that realization he had gone through the City's records. Checked the local schools yearbooks, documents, previous curriculums, he even spoke to Dick about his new worry. A last attempt at trying to deny what he had started finding, but to no avail. Dick had done even more digging and between them they found the horrible truth that the _Gotham City_ was in fact losing it's population of citizens.

The people were leaving. Soon everyone would be gone.

Batman did not take the news well at all.

He had thrown priceless antiques in angry frustration.

Alfred with the boys had to stay at Barbara's for a night.

Then Bruce had heard about the board's plan.

The plan for a New Observatory in the City!

It was a perfect solution!

"It was all a waste, one big pile of shit," Batman mumbled to himself, as he swung from one construction beam to another. He forced the grief in his heart back. He couldn't afford it. He had to focus on the "reality" of the situation.

The night wind battered against him, as a deep anger worked it's way through his mind. Anger was better than grief. Grief made one immobile, anger he could use; it gave him energy to push against the choking wind around him.

"HAHAhaahaHAHAHAHAHAheeehaaHE EEHAHHA!" cried the hated voice of the Joker under his arm.

Batman had the pleasant image of dropping the Clown into the dark burning abyss beneath them. Instead he landed them both on the nearest metal beam they could reach. The flames of the burning Observatory lit the world around them. Batman frowned down at the ugly visage of his mortal enemy, at that moment the anger in Bruce's mind blew over! He flung the Clown away from him! So that the Joker's body slammed into a metal wall behind him! Batman saw the Joker wince at the Impact but it wasn't enough!

"WHAT HAVE YOU DONE!" Bruce, no Batman roared!

The Joker tried to raise his hands in protection, but he wasn't fast enough. The Batman began to pummel the other man with his fists! "It was all for nothing! All for nothing!" Batman kept thinking in rage, it didn't matter that the Clown had been shocked at the appearance of the _Hooked Man_, like everyone else. Nothing registered to Bruce but the sweet sound of his fist meeting the vile psycho's flesh.

"NO MORE JOKER! NO MORE!" Batman screeched! Spit flying from his mouth onto the Joker's blood covered face. The Clown pulled a knife as if out of nowhere, "Oh Batsey," Joker spat back, " Why? Don't you…STEP BACK!" The Joker swung the knife catching Batman's jaw just barely as the Dark Knight released his foe to avoid being struck.

The Joker with the knife before him let out a mad chuckling guffaw of suicidal mirth, "WHAT'SSS WRONG HAHAHAHAHeheeeehahahah Batsey?! HeehehahahahahAHAHAHAH! Lost your telescope! What happened to using SONARAHAHAHA!"

Joker struck out with the knife! The Batman sidestepped it to throw another punch at the Clown. They began the old _dance_ of foes, kicking, and punching. Arms swinging in deadly arcs, as each sought a way to bring the other to their knees. The construction beam beneath them, swinging slightly under the pressure of the grotesque _ballet _they _performed. _

So involved in their movements were the Bat and Clown that they did not see the dark shadow that crept closer to them. A terrible glasglow grin so close to the demented Clown's grew wider upon the dark shadow's face.

Bruce had a second to see the figure aim a gun in his direction before a shot rang the air!

BANG.

"_A sweet Jest indeed, fool. Tell me true? Did you think you had escaped ME?" said the Wicked, gun in hand. _

(((((((((((((Line Break))))))))))))))))))))

"How the hell? Did you get up here?" sputtered Joker indignantly! It was bad enough having to fight Batsey! Now he had to _parley_ with another party member! Oh this was just …_pea chy. Peachy green._ The Joker tried to hide his grimace but found himself unsuccessful.

He had been enjoying the "game" with Batsey a moment ago, but this new one he didn't care for. "_Too many variables," _a decidedly too sane voice in the Joker's head whispered frantically.

Joker glanced at the Batman out of the corner of his eye. The crusader had barely ducked the gunshot towards his head a second ago. Joker had to admit he had been impressed with the speed of his duck. Any slower and his Batman would have been dead.

A soft chuckling sound drew Joker's attention back to the Man with the Gun. "That's a bad sign," thought Joker soberly for once.

"Now! Now! _Friend, _if something's funny you must share it with the rest of the class!" taunted the Joker, as he tried to stall for time.

There wasn't enough room to dodge bullets on this construction beam. Nor was jumping an exact option like the window earlier. The Joker felt a pain erupt from his back; Batman had really done a number on him despite the scar from this so-called _Wicked _earlier. He was in a tight spot the Joker realized, a very, very uncomfortable tight spot. "I may as well have trapped myself in a cupboard!" he thought irritably. How being in a cupboard related to anything the Joker himself didn't know, the analogy just felt right to him.

Batman began speaking, clearing the Joker's wondering thoughts.

"Who are you!" Batman demanded of the Wicked. This was met by a resound silence from the other, then as if in debate with oneself, Wicked tilted his head to the side.

"_I?" _the man asked in honest query.

"Yes you! Who are you! What do you want?!" the Bat shouted, rage seeping through his voice.

The Joker made a quick decision to use Bat's dialogue as a distraction to leave. The pain in his back was killing him & the pain of his serratus anterior had spread to the clavicle bone in his neck. He would not be able to stay to play much longer. This was becoming painfully evident. He started moving away. When the Wicked simply turned and shot at him. BANG! Joker had to leap in the air to miss the bullet to his right leg. Twisting his ankle in the landing, to end up flat on his behind, which in turn made the beam both he & the Bat were on swing violently!

"JOKER!" shouted the Batman, in alarm! The Joker clenched his teeth as his ankle ached; apparently he hadn't twisted it at all. It was sprained. Damn. Seeing the Joker incapacitated allowed the Batman to focus his attention on the strange newcomer. Who started to speak in a quiet almost bored tone of voice.

"_You ask who I am? Very well. I don' t think my Lord would mind," _Wicked mused almost as if to himself, gun still raised towards the Joker, "_I am the Wicked. I deal the orders out. I am the Third."_

Joker couldn't help it. He began laughing something awful! "HehaheeheehehehahhahahAHAHAH AHAHA! HOW DROWL! How barmy! Why Bats? I do believe we've found someone crazier than us?!" It was hilarious! The Joker couldn't get over it. Here he was sprawled out on his back thanks to some wacked out _cult_ kid. The Joker tried to get himself to stand up. He couldn't remain lying on the ground at a time like this! The audacity of it all!

"Shut it Joker!" yelled Batman, watching the Clown, when another BANG rendered the Batman speechless!

Silence. That was the sound as Batman overlooked, his mortal enemy's, shoulder get nearly shot off!

Blood flew in every direction, for once the Joker's entire face, smile included, was nothing but sheer shock. Joker's emerald glass eyes were as wide as dinner plates! It occurred to the Batman that no one had ever _shot_ theJoker _point blank_.

Batman watched as the force from the bullet's impact flung the rising Clown back onto the "ground". He watched as the Joker's right hand involuntarily flung to his left shoulder out of sheer instinct. He watched as his enemy's mouth hung open in a _scream, _without sound.

A silent scream similar to his _father; _an icy chill seemed to envelope the air. It was Bruce who watched as the Joker's body trembled in reaction to the blow it had been dealt. It was Bruce who watched as his enemy started coughing blood up.

"You shot him," Bruce spoke in a revolted hiss.

His statement was met by the whistling of empty air as the Man Who Shot The Joker, leapt onto the far end of the beam. Batman stared as the cold _creature_ before him began it's approach. The image of a hungry _crocodile_ gliding through water closer to an injured animal came into his mind briefly. This man that called himself Wicked, Batman concluded may have a grin like the Joker's but he was all business.

"_Of course,"_ said Wicked as he approached the fallen Mountebank of Comedy, "_I am the Wicked."_

Batman grew tense, as much as he wanted to see Joker gone, the gunshot had unsettled him. It was too close. Different for sure, but physically too close to what had happened when he was a child.

"Wicked?" Batman heard himself ask.

The man stopped his approach. He tilted his head again in what Batman realized was suppose to be a friendly gesture. As the man stood there silently, no doubt thinking Batman's question, the caped crusader couldn't help but notice his enemy.

Joker lay there between them, shoulder bleeding profusely, a soft blood gurgling chuckle passing over his bloody lips. A smile etched onto his face, twisting insanely up in amusement, his emerald eyes never moving from the figure of Wicked. Joker's free hand began pushing the rest of the Clown's body up ever so slightly. It took Batman a minute to realize that the Joker wasn't just pushing himself up, but _back_, back towards the direction of Batman's feet.

Batman felt himself swallow.

If it weren't him in this place, no one else would have even suspected what Batman did. _The Joker was somewhere subconsciously scared of Wicked._

"Speaking of Wicked," Batman thought, he brought his gaze back to the dark figure. A sick feeling grew in his stomach, apparently he wasn't alone in noticing Joker's abnormal behavior, Wicked's glasglow grin was stretched wide. His eyes gleamed with an unhealthy light, the silver gun he held shone orange against the night's fire even this far above the flames.

"_The Wicked are those who have suffered enough and await the Smiting of the Great One," _said Wicked matter of fact. The man then went on to lick his bottom lip before continuing, "_The Wicked is also bringing something."_

_ "_What are you bringing?" Batman asked sternly.

Wicked merely lifted the gun using it to point at the Batman's chest plate in response, a bemused expression crossing the man's face, "_Something Wicked."_

Batman didn't have time anymore to think the words over. He launched himself at this new appointment, dodging the bullet the Wicked shot at him. Ignoring whatever remarks the Joker had made now behind him. The Joker was no longer important in the Batman's eyes, whoever or whatever these _people_ were the Batman knew one thing for certain. He would get to the bottom of it all. Find out whatever he had to. Take these intruders down and rebuild his city. Simply because no matter the cost, despite the growing emptiness, at the end of day, "_He was the Batman," _Gotham's one and only protector.


End file.
